Paradise of Light and Shadow
by Dulce Periculum
Summary: A single bet throws Sparrow into yet another plot laid out by Fate, one she may not survive. Along with Reaver, a bandit, and an old friend, she will have to face an enemy that is determined to have both her and the pirate dead. Reviews anyone?
1. To Bowerstone

**A/N: Welcome all to the first chapter in Paradise of Light and Shadow! Let's clear a few things up before we get on with the show, shall we?**

**First, to all Vocaloid fans. If you have no idea what 'Vocaloid' is, skip this paragraph. If you were wondering, yes, the title is the same as the song 'Paradise of Light and Shadow'. I actually started writing this story to be based on the story line of that song, but it took on a life of its own. The title simply stuck, but I take no credit for making it up. Please note that this is the farthest thing from a song-fic, as well. **

**Second of all, this story is actually been written from start to finish, so if you enjoy this first chapter, there won't be a worry of writers block. If there is a bit of a longer wait, it's because something has happened in real life and I can't upload a chapter in time, or my three editors are taking their time with a chapter. **

**Third, I accept all DECENT reviews. That means I do not take very kindly to badly-written flames. I will take a good reason as to why you do or do not like the story, but I'll be honest. The comment 'Y do u even bother righting' don't exactly help me out over here. Sorry if that offends anyone, but that's just how I am. And if anyone sees a mistake I or one of my editors missed, let me know! It helps out the story, and my own writing in general.**

**Lastly, I hope you enjoy my hard work! ...Seriously, this sucker's taken over a half of a year to write, and it's still not done being fixed up. On with the show!**

**~D/P**

**Chapter I**

**To Bowerstone**

The bright sun cast golden rays on the port city of Bloodstone. People began to emerge from their homes, and the local pub. A bell chimed out on the port from one of the ships as it cast off. At the far east of the town, in the Bloodstone Manor, the hero of Albion, Sparrow watched all this from the balcony.

The hero was one of the few unmistakable people in the area, and not just because she carried a large cleaver as a weapon. Those who spoke of her said she held the ocean in her eyes. She was also remarkably pale for someone who saw nothing but sun nearly every day. The presence of her dog also gave her away quite easily, as it seemed very few people could afford to keep pets.

The cold wind from the sea blew Sparrow's brown locks of hair around her face, showing a faded scar from the top of her forehead down to the middle of her cheek, trailing over one of her blue eyes. She brushed the hair back into place, like she had been doing it for years.  
>Ten months ago, she had purchased the manor. Along with it was a note from the infamous pirate king who previously owned the manor. She took it seriously, thinking that he would return and kill her. After the first three months when nothing happened, she stopped worrying. In fact, when she asked about him down at the pub once, the barman asked who Reaver was. Sparrow had winced; if Reaver had heard that, Bloodstone would have to find a new barman.<br>So Sparrow slowly forgot about the note, and now it was like the memory of her parents. Non-existent.

As the sun crept up into the sky and people began wandering the streets, Sparrow could see the figures of a few men making their way to the manor. She sighed, blowing her bangs away from her face, and walked inside. She shut and locked the door before moving into the study.  
>The men outside were ones that had shown up every day for almost a month now, angrily asking for an engagement ring. It was beyond Sparrow why any of them thought they had a right to ask her such questions. She didn't even know any of their names!<br>Sparrow entered the study and was greeted by her dog, Cora, who licked her furiously on the face when she got the chance. Sparrow laughed and eventually pushed her dog away, wiping the slobber from her face.  
>Sometimes Sparrow wondered if the dog of a hero lived as long as a human would. The dog had to be nearing twenty-five, and still was as loving- and vicious in battle- as ever.<p>

Sparrow took a seat at the oak table after pulling one of the books off the shelf. Her black coat was thrown onto the back of the chair, showing the clothes underneath. She wore clothes that were similar to a bandit's, which she had bought as soon as she had made it to Bowerstone at the start of her journey. The only thing that she ever changed was her boots; they now had a small knife attached to the back in case of an unexpected attack.  
>She opened the book and read, while Cora took her place near the fire pit. Sparrow flipped through the pages for almost a half-an-hour, when she abruptly shut the book and slammed it down on the table. Her dog jumped up and was instantly at Sparrows side.<br>"Remind me to sell _Cold __Lips_, Cora," she mumbled. "That and any other copy I find."  
>Sparrow sighed and stood, looking through the books shelves again. Just as she pulled out another book, there was a knock at the door. She sighed and walked out of the study. Cora followed her, growling slightly. She unlocked and opened the door, giving her guest an impatient look.<br>"Message for you, Lady Bloodstone," the messenger said. Sparrow rolled her eyes at the name and took the scroll the messenger was holding. It was a bit like an advertisement, and it told her that Castle Fairfax was for sale.  
>"I'm not interested," Sparrow muttered, handing the scroll back to the messenger. He took it and backed away.<p>

"Yes, Lady Bloodstone."

As he walked away, Sparrow called after him, "That's not my name, ya know!"

He didn't seem to hear her, but the men from earlier did. They came running this time, and Sparrow shut the doors as quick as she could.  
>"When will they take a hint!" she whispered, going back to the study. Cora barked at her and she stopped for a moment. It only just occurred to her that she <em>did<em> need to get to Bowerstone to pick up the rent the people owed her. It was being kept in the hands of a guard, who knew his job depended on doing that simple task. Sparrow hit her forehead with the palm of her hand, and raced back to the front doors. Cora followed her as she pushed her way through the men crowded at the entrance. A quick force push from her hand sent the doors flying shut, and the men running.

Sparrow raced down the street, looking for the messenger she had sent away. If he came here without being killed, he had to of taken a carriage. If she was lucky, she could hop on and save herself the trouble of going through Wraithmarsh or the Bandit Coast on foot. Strangely enough, bandits, banshees and hollow men seemed to leave carriages alone, but would attack if anyone was on foot.

As she turned the corner of the street, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.  
>"There she is! Get her!"<p>

The hand that grabbed her belonged to a very angry-looking man. Sparrow could see a faint red glow around him, meaning that he was going to try to kill her- or worse.

The first blow that was struck was blocked by her cleaver. She twisted her wrist away from the man and ran as fast as she could, then stopped. Summoning up all the will she could, she formed a ball of light in her hands. When the light hit the ground, time slowed for her and she ran from the town. As soon as everything slowed down, she was at the edge of the town. Cora was at her side, looking up at her as if to ask 'what now?'

Sparrow sighed and turned to the road that lead to Wraithmarsh.

"I guess we walk and hope we don't run into any banshees on the way," she mumbled.

Sparrow arrived in Bowerstone five days later, covered in mud, sweat, and banshee blood that looked more like ink. Cora was at her side, limping along as fast as she could. Despite her horrific appearance, she was welcomed by one of the local guards. She nodded a 'hello' to him, and then made her way to the general store.

The owner greeted her and gladly gave her what she needed: a beer, medicine for her dog, and the location of the guard with her money. Sparrow thanked her, gave the medicine to Cora, then left to find the guard. There was no trouble doing so. He ran up to her as soon as she was in his sight. He gave her the bag which contained about 50,000 gold, then walked off. Sparrow sighed and opened the beer bottle, took a drink, and gave it to a near-by beggar who took it without question.

Her next stop was to her own small home in Bowerstone. She kept it for herself in case Reaver ever did decide to show up and she went homeless. That, however, like his note, had been forgotten. She opened the door, and seeing the familiar crowd of men gather all to ask her the same question, she shut the door and turned the lock. Cora stayed outside on the steps to her home, growling at anyone who tried to get to the door.

The first thing Sparrow did was go upstairs, lay down on her bed, and took a twenty-four hour nap, unaware of what was about to happen in Bloodstone.

At that very same time, a new ship was nearing Bloodstone. On deck stood Reaver, who was straining his eyes to see land. His trip with Garth had gone somewhat wrong from the very start. The land the blind woman sent the both of them to wasn't what he expected. Sure, the people were… friendly enough for him. In fact, they were a bit _too_ friendly. He had stolen the first ship he could, rounded up what bandits came passing through, and set sail for the small islands that dotted the horizon. Before that, however, he made an attempt to kill the other hero. Whether or not he did wasn't a concern to him.

He found the same sort of people there as well, but managed to tolerate their strange ways for a few months. When he couldn't stand the heat anymore, he once again set sail back to Albion, with what treasure he could steal from the island. A storm had slowed them down by a month, and now only a few crew-members were alive. Reaver either killed the rest or watched from a distance as they drowned. He didn't give them much thought. He was more interested in who now owned his precious manor, and who he was going to kill to get it back.

Reaver's ship made port within the hour, yet he felt that something was wrong. People cast him odd looks as soon as he stepped onto the port. The women of the town continued their business without a glance. Something was very wrong indeed. He strode into pub and went up to the bar.

"What'll ya have?" the barman mumbled.

"The best you've got." Reaver said, looking back at the crowd in the pub. Still no one seemed to recognize him. "I say, it seems I have been quite forgotten here."

"Well, I've never seen ya around here," the barman muttered, handing Reaver a bottle of ale.

"Does the name Reaver ring a bell by any chance?" The barman laughed.

"Nope. That's what I told that miss a while ago, too." Reaver felt almost relieved. At least someone remembered him… and that someone was a girl.

"And who might this lass be?"

"Lady Bloodstone herself."

_Someone has bought the manor…_ Reaver thought.

"And you're sure you've never heard of a Reaver?"

The barman shook his head.

"Well, I'll tell you something, my good man." Reaver said, lowering his voice. Without the barman seeing, he pulled out his Dragonstomper .48. "I am Reaver."

The sound of a gunshot echoed out of the pub and out into the streets. Everyone stopped, and those in the pub at the time turned to look at Reaver. "And don't you forget it. Tatty-bye."

While smirking at the opened-mouthed people, Reaver left and made his way up the hill to the Bloodstone Manor. He expected the door to be locked when he got there, but it wasn't. Whoever this 'Lady Bloodstone' was, she must have not read his note properly. He stepped inside to find almost everything as he left it. The study had been rearranged just a bit, and when he went upstairs he found the beds had been changed. It wasn't anything he couldn't fix… or hire someone to fix, for that matter.

Sparrow woke the next day a bit happier than before. She made her way to the tailors to get replacement clothes, for the ones she had were torn and stained beyond repair. Her second trip led her to the blacksmiths. The small riot in Bloodstone reminded her she needed to get her cleaver sharpened. While the blacksmith worked, Sparrow wandered the markets of Old Town, saying hello to the guard she had helped so many years ago when his warrants blew off. He offered her a bounty-hunting job, but she declined. Without her cleaver, she would hardly survive anything fighting-wise. Swords would only be thrown back in her face because they were too light for her to use. Hammers made too much of a mess for even her to handle. Axes had snapped on her in the past and weren't much use in close combat.

Even when she found a clockwork pistol in a chest, she still refused to use guns. The only other ranged weapon she owned was a crossbow, and it was meant for long-range killing. Her will wasn't strong, either. She could only slow down time around her for a few seconds, which she named time control. That along with another spell she named force push, which only knocked people to the ground, made her will good for running away, but not for fighting. Even with those two spells, the blue lines that most will-users had never appeared on her own white skin.

Sparrow retrieved her cleaver within the hour, and went back to her house in Bowerstone. She figured that the men of Bloodstone would still be looking for her, and she wanted nothing to do with them. She laid her travel sack on the wooden table and sat down, dumping out what she brought. Inside was the clockwork pistol, a few books which she meant to sell, and a few pieces of paper. She picked up the first piece that she could reach, and read it over. Written on it was a detailed description of a nightmare. Sparrow shuddered at the thought of watching a village burn to the ground, and knowing exactly why.

It occurred to her then what Reaver had to deal with. From the writing, it sounded as if this nightmare happened quite often. Yet before she could feel sorry for him, she reminded herself that he deserved it. He let those people die for nothing, and he deserved it.

Sparrow now wished she had kept that beer bottle.

**Edit: Huh. It seems as though the italic font was a bit screwed up. I've fixed it, and gone back to the original document. It was fine there, so I'm guessing it's a problem with FF. Hopefully that won't happen in the future, and I'm sorry if it messed up any part of the story for those of you who have read the chapter. **

**~D/P **


	2. Bandits and Balverines

**A/N: Okay, this is a bit... delayed. I had planned on getting this chapter up on Monday, because well, let's face it, Mondays suck and this would give me and whoever enjoys this story something to look forward to. However, it seems as though fate decided 'Nope! You're going to have the flu instead!' And that happened last Saturday.  
><strong>**I'm still not entirely well: sick enough to miss another day of high school, but well enough to use the computer while my parents are at work.  
><strong>**As for this chapter, the rest of the major characters come into play and I take a few creative liberties. One is of my own creation, and the other is based off of the general 'good female' character you can use while playing co-op in Fable II.  
>Speaking of which, I do not own rights to Fable II. That goes without saying, really for everything on this site... It is called <em>Fan<em>Fiction, right?**

**~D/P **

**Chapter II**

**Bandits and Balverines**

Sparrow spent three days in Bowerstone, wasting time by looking at the new weapon shipments the blacksmith had received (from Bloodstone, ironically), attempting to get into a secret house she found in Old Town, and even going to the hair salon to get her hair dyed black.

Now she rode in a carriage that would take her to Westcliff, and she was enjoying the view of the ocean from Bandit Coast. The sun was just going down, too, and it made the water look a pool of gold. With the image of gold in her mind, Sparrow closed her eyes and imagined how much money she could have gotten had she chosen wealth in the Spire. Cora, who was at her feet, gave a small whine as if she knew what Sparrow was thinking.

The jolt of the carriage stopping woke Sparrow from her day-dreams, and she kicked open the door. She and Cora jumped out just as the carriage began to tip. The horse pulling it seemed to vanish, which puzzled her if only for a moment.

About six bandits came from around the other side of the carriage, holding rifles and swords. One held a lit dynamite stick, which he threw at Sparrow.

Using what will she could, she slowed time down and ran as fast as she could from the bandits. The start of an explosion could be heard as she ran, but she didn't look back to see it. She'd rather get as far away from the group of bandits as fast as possible. It bothered her to kill humans, no matter what they did.

Sparrow slowed back into real time, and walked for almost an hour after she saw the bandits. In that time, she found herself standing in the middle of a camp. A bandit camp, none the less. Sparrow drew her cleaver, reluctantly preparing herself for a fight. She could see bandits hiding in the shadows, waiting for her to get close enough to attack her.

"I see you," she muttered, taking another step closer. "So why not attack me now?"

One of the bandits stepped out into the light. He had a long scar across his face, and she winced, being reminded of her own. He had no red glow around him, which was what she normally saw on people who wanted to hurt her. She replaced her cleaver on her back, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"If you're not going to hurt me, then why hide?" she asked. The bandit's eyes widened for a moment, and Sparrow guessed she had read his thoughts. "Well?"

"Forgive me miss… We're not… _accustom_ to heroes 'round here. Attackin' you'd be like getting' a hangin'."

Sparrow narrowed her eyes. How did they know she was a hero? Sure, she was known around Albion for her good deeds, but why would bandits suddenly stop attacking her? Her mind told her they were trying to trap her, and get someone to pay ransom for her… Or something like that. That or she had found friends.

She went with the first idea… for now, anyway.

"So why was I attacked back there, and not here?" she asked, noticing the rest of the bandits were slowly coming out of hiding. "They must have been part of your group; they were only an hour down the road."

"Can't be us. We only control the camp, see. Anyon' else lives out in the woods."

Sparrow nodded, and looked back at the crowd that was gathering around them. She figured they wouldn't hurt her… no red glow was on any of them, and it was hard to hide that from a hero.

"My carriage was ambushed, and the horse and driver went missing. And I have to get to Westcliff as soon as possible," she explained to the bandits. "I need to get there as fast as I can. If you really won't hurt me, I'd like an escort there. Tonight."

Whispers went through the crowd at once, and some of the bandits gave her strange looks. A few backed away from her, but the scar-faced bandit kept a straight face.

"You're gonna have to wait, missy. Balverines take over this place at dark. Plus, the road to Westcliff is full of 'em. You can stay here 'till then."

Sparrow felt like leaving, then and there, but the bandit was right. She wouldn't survive a balverine attack. Not when she was alone. So, the second idea she first had about the bandits came back into her mind. They were not her enemies, and she was safe.

Sparrow found herself sitting around a campfire, talking with the bandits. The one who approached her later told her his name: Logan. Her first thought was how could a bandit have such a nice name? Then she reminded herself it was probably a fake; something he just told strangers.

As the sun set, Sparrow found herself sitting alone with Logan.

"So… why are you going to Westcliff? Off to see innocents at the Crucible get slaughtered like cows?"

Sparrow raised an eye brow at him. She hadn't expected him to ask… and with more proper English.

"No, I've already done that… And I lived. I'd rather not take another chance in that hell-hole."

"Ah, you're a fighter. You're name doesn't ring a bell, though." His new way of talking made Sparrow a bit uneasy. Why would a bandit go from talking… what bandits talk like, to talking like a noble?

"My name is Sparrow…I was Blade back then. At least, that was my fighting name. And I'm not proud of what I did ten years ago." She paused, and took a breath. The fires reflection danced in her eyes. "I'm headed to Bloodstone on a ship, if you're wondering." Logan nodded, but gave her a strange look at the same time. Sparrow couldn't help but laugh at that. "I own the manor there, and I'd like to get back before someone takes it over."

Oh, if only she knew someone already had.

* * *

><p>Reaver woke from a pleasant sleep, happy to be back in his manor once again. Being the first night back, he had thought about throwing a party… But after what happened at the pub, he decided against it. The people of Bloodstone couldn't forget about something that easily… Though they had forgotten about him in quite a short time.<p>

The previous day, he had searched the manor for this Lady Bloodstone, but found no one of the like. There was no trace to who she was either, except that she had taken the liberty to find all of his secret notes. Too bad she'd never read them. Only heroes could read them. And there was no chance that the fiery young girl- what was her name? Blade? that dragged him to the dreaded Spire had bought the place. So his secrets were safe.

Reaver spent the day doing what amused him. He walked down to the pub just to see the frightened looks on people's faces. A few of the woman were already swooning over him, as if nothing had happened.

It was noon when he gave a hired messenger a notice to give to the whole town. It was time they saw him not as a murderer, but as a… _highlight_ of the port town. And what better way to do that than to throw a party? The courier took his message and walked as fast as she could out of the manor.

Reaver knew it would be some party, indeed.

* * *

><p>Sparrow was having a much more difficult morning. She woke to the sound of a bell ringing. She sat up and looked around for a moment, and was almost instantly thrown into a war between the bandits of the camp and at least twenty balverines.<p>

In one hand, she wielded her cleaver, and in the other, she held her loaded cross-bow. She could make out Logan, backing away from one of the smaller balverines, and she shot it with a single arrow. The arrow hit it in one of its glowing eyes, and it snarled in her direction. Logan drew the sword he kept at his side, and drove it into the balverines neck. From where Sparrow was standing, she could see the balverines blood now stained most of Logan's face and chest. If she wasn't in the middle of a battle, she would have winced.

A larger balverine came at full speed toward her, knocking her into the air. She landed up against one of the wooden walls of the camp, and crumpled to the ground if only for a moment. She stood, showing no sign of pain what so ever, and ran as fast as she could at the balverine. It appeared to smile at her with its fangs as she raced toward it.

Just as she reached it, the balverine leapt up into the air.

_Oh, __no __you __don't._

Sparrow focused her will and slowed time just enough for her to grab one of the balverines legs. She gave a hard yank, and pulled it to the ground. Her cleaver finished the job, and the balverines head rolled.

Time caught up with her just as a shriek pierced the air. One of the balverines sunk its teeth into a bandits shoulder. Sparrow shot it with an arrow, and got its attention. It lunged at her, and she shot two more arrows into its bloody body. It fell to the ground, dead.

Sparrow saw a piece of metal sticking through another balverines back, and watched it fall to the ground. Logan stood behind the body. Sparrow gave him a quick grin before throwing herself at another one of the balverines.

The one she took on was smaller than the others, so it was fairly easy. She had used up her will-power for the time being, so she only has her normal speed on her side this time. She raced up behind the balverine, and leapt into air. The balverine turned, and Sparrow landed square on its shoulders. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Logan watching her, mouth open. She dropped to her knees, and locked them around the balverines neck. She twisted her knees, and heard a snap.

Both she and the balverine fell to the ground, and Sparrow found herself trapped under dead weight. She gave a small push, and the body rolled off. She stood up, only to be knocked down from behind by another balverines claws. She rolled onto her back, holding her cleaver up to block the blows.

A gun was fired, and the balverine fell back, dead.

From what Sparrow could see, there were only five left to kill. She also noticed the balverines outnumbered them. One of the five lunged at her, and she rolled to the side. It hit a tree, which stunned it for a moment. Sparrow dropped her crossbow, gripped her cleaver with both hands, and threw it in the same style a child would hit a ball with a wooden club. The cleaver flew with remarkable speed, and hit its mark.

Logan appeared at her side as she retrieved her crossbow, and they both ducked as another balverine lunged at them.

"How many are left?" Sparrow asked. "How many men?"

Logan looked back at her, breathing heavily. He shook his head, and said "I don't know. There are bodies everywhere, and I can't tell who's alive and who's dead."

Sparrow didn't get a chance to answer him. One of the balverines stalked out into view, and she shot it with an arrow. It only grazed it, drawing blood from its arm. Logan fired a round of bullets, but it still kept coming at them. It went for Sparrow, and she rolled out of the way. She backed up to the tree her cleaver was embedded into, and gave a hard yank. The wood held onto her weapon. She gave another yank, focusing her attention on getting it out, and not the fight that was taking place. Logan was reloading his gun, avoiding a balverines claws at the same time.

Sparrow gave another yank, but her cleaver still wouldn't come free. A balverine stalked up behind her as she worked on getting her weapon, and Sparrow felt a hot pain on her back. She held in a scream, and turned around just in time to duck. Claw marks cut deep into the wood, and one was close enough to loosen her weapon. She gave a hard yank, and the cleaver came free.

She swung it at the balverine, and made a cut clear across its chest. It fell backwards, and Sparrow sank the tip of her cleaver into its heart. Logan, at the same time, killed off another one in the same manner, almost in the exact moment she did.

Sparrow walked slowly back to him, keeping her eyes moving. Logan walked slowly backward until the two were back-to-back. They slowly turned in a circle, and waited for the next attack. From the shadows of the trees, Sparrow could see one of the remaining bandits, and he quickly ran out to join them.

All Logan heard was a bloodcurdling cry of pain. Sparrow was unlucky enough to watch the man be bit into and shaken like a piece of jerky by a white balverine. That image would haunt her for weeks.

Only once before had Sparrow seen a balverine so… demonic-looking… and that was when she was traveling with Hammer. That one had been very hard to kill, she remembered. It took almost a half an hour to finally put an end to the beast. She read later in books that white balverines could be brought down within minutes… by using lightning.

"Logan, I need you to do something for me," Sparrow whispered.

Just as the white balverine, eyes glowing with rage and hunger, leapt, Sparrow linked herself with Logan, simply by grabbing onto his wrist. She threw her cleaver to the ground, and created a large sphere of light in her hand. The faint glow of blue could be seen, as it was radiating through her veins. The light quickly dissipated, and Logan watched in wonder as the world around him slowed. Sparrow turned to him, and he could see the white balverine, frozen in time, but still lunging at them.

"Do what damage you can do to it. I need to focus."

Logan nodded, and Sparrow let her grip on his wrist go. He went back into normal time, while she closed her eyes and tried her hardest to contact the blind seer from her past.

"Theresa…?" she whispered. "Can you hear me?"

A voice answered her.

"Yes, little Sparrow?"

"I need to learn a new will power. Lightning."

She could hear a soft laugh, and smiled slightly.

"Very well. I grant you the fury of the clouds. Use it wisely, little Sparrow." Sparrows smile widened. It was good to hear Theresa's voice again. "And you might want to duck now."

Sparrow's time control wore off, and she ducked. The white balverine soared over her head, and landed on the ground. It turned toward the two remaining survivors. Sparrow looked down, and could see the faintest hint of blue on her skin. She focused that will into her hands, watching the blue flow down to create a sphere of pure energy. Logan stood behind her, watching the balverine bare its teeth at them. The sphere grew and Sparrow leaned back slightly. White light began to emit from her very skin. The sphere grew, and each time, Sparrow moved back.

The white balverine launched itself at them, and Sparrow cast out her will power. The white lightning went straight into the balverines heart, and Sparrow could see the faint outline of a skeleton that looked almost human. The smell of burning fur saturated everything, and she covered her nose to block out the foul smell. When the lightning vanished, the white balverine fell to the ground, its fur still smoking.

Sparrow let her hand drop from her face, and her eyes closed.

Logan steadied Sparrow just as she was about to fall. He led her to one of the fallen logs and she sat down. Her head hung down, and he caught a glimpse at the fading scar on her face. He stepped back and looked around, looking for something to bind her wounds with. At the same time, he saw her take out a small vile of red liquid. It looked a bit like blood. She uncorked it and swallowed the liquid, tossing the vile to the ground. A red light shone from the marks on her back for a moment, then vanished.

He watched her stand and turn her back to him. The claw marks on her back had become nothing but scars. She stepped over to one of the dead bodies, and removed the coat. She shrugged her own ripped one off at the same time, and swapped it out.

Sparrow turned to him and walked over, crushing the vile she threw as she did. She stopped suddenly, and looked around, as if she had misplaced something.

"Cora?"

* * *

><p>The sun was high in the sky, and it made the waters of Bloodstone shimmer. Reaver, however, was too busy to notice. He had returned to his stolen ship, newly named <em>The <em>_Reaver __II,_ to retrieve the only treasure he found interesting on his travels: a girl, who dressed quite like that troublesome hero did, only she was a bit more… solemn. The man who turned her over to Reaver said she was a runaway, and if he paid enough for her, the parent's would be told she was killed by bandits.

He found her leaning over the side of the ship, with a blank look in her eyes. Her blonde hair was tied back with a red ribbon, and she had traded in her dress for a shirt and pair of pants. Reaver guessed she stole them from a sleeping crew-member. She kept staring down at the water, even when he approached her.

"You looked better in that dress you know," Reaver remarked, studying her new clothes.

She gave no response. The nerve of her! Reaver strode forward and turned her toward him with a firm yank.

"Oh, don't you have anything to say to me? I'm hurt, truly."

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, but still said nothing.

"You could at least tell me your name… Otherwise, I'll have to make one up, and I hate doing that."

The girl looked away from him, and down toward the water again.

"Thinking of home, eh? Well, Bloodstone is your home now! Be happy I didn't let that man drag you back to your parents. What would they have thought, a pretty girl on the run."

Reaver was getting bored of talking to what was the human equivalent of a stone wall. He had half a mind to shoot her if she wouldn't speak up, which he told her. She looked at him, and narrowed her eyes.

"Just try it," she snapped.

"My, you have a lovely voice. Now, you can tell me your name, right?"

"You may as well call me Misery, because that's all I am."

Reaver raised an eye brow at her comment, and said, "I guess that'll have to do, though you shouldn't be so. In fact, I may as well make you the guest of honor at my party tonight. It might cheer you up a bit!"

Misery scowled at him.

"Such fun you are," Reaver muttered before turning to leave.

* * *

><p>"Sparrow, you'd better show up and fast," Misery whispered. Reaver turned back to her, and gave her a strange look.<p>

That name… it sounded so familiar.

**One more thing: to those of you who use the site, and upload documents... I've been having trouble with the italic font. It seems to be getting mushed together... Like this: **_Seesomethinisscreweduphere._ **Anyone else having this problem?**


	3. Crucible Reunion

**A/N: Ten internet spazzes later... Happy Thanksgiving to those of us in the US! I'm sorry this wasn't up sooner, but... my internet decided to shut down for a bit. Thanks to everyone who reviewed/subscribed to this story! I couldn't be the writer I am now without reviews... So review! It keeps this story going... well, it really reminds me that I need to update. Exams were this week, so I had been a bit stressed out and almost forgot...  
>In this chapter... A name is changed, a party is crashed, and a head is hit with a frying-pan, 'Tangled'(you know, the movie?) style.<br>On with the show!  
>~DP **

**Chapter III**

**Crucible Reunion**

Sparrow looked around frantically for Cora, calling out her name. A soft bark answered, and the brown dog came running from behind one of the walls, carrying a glowing silver key in her mouth.

"Good girl," Sparrow said, taking the key from her. Cora gave another bark, as if to say 'let's get going'. Sparrow stood, putting the key into one of the pockets on her pants, and turned to Logan.

"Shall we?"

The journey to Westcliff was surprisingly enjoyable. Cora trotted along, silent most of the time. Logan accompanied Sparrow as well.

Along the way, he began asking questions. Sparrow found sharing her personal life to be a bit of a relief.

"So why did you vanish for ten years?" he asked. "Most champions stick around for a few years, breaking the records at the Crucible."

Sparrow smiled and shook her head, which made Logan give her another look.

"What?" he asked, stopping short. Sparrow laughed again, and Cora barked as if she was laughing along.

"Nothing, sorry," she managed to say. He started walking again. "I left for the Spire."

"I thought everyone-"

"Died," Sparrow finished. "I spent ten years of my life there to rescue one man. Garth, the hero of will."

Logan stopped again, and so did Sparrow. She turned to look at him.

"What went on in there?"

"It was… horrific. I got plenty of scars from a man- or creature, I don't know which. He was called the Commandant, and I had to obey his every order. First day there, he beat me until I bled. I had to thank him for it."

Logan gave her a sympathetic look, and Sparrow shook her head. She turned away and the two began walking again. Cora looked at Logan for a moment, then followed.

"I soon became used to it. And pain became like white noise. During the time I spent there, I broke every rule possible, and suffered for it. I fed prisoners, I took my own sweet time going places, and… when I was ordered to kill one of my only friends with a cutlass, I turned on the Commandant.

"He hated me for what I did, and on the tenth year I was there, I was sent to find a recruit that had gone missing. I found who I was looking for, Garth, and a dead body. I took the dead man's sword, supplies, and gun… And lead an uprising. It was bloody, and I killed everyone who stood in my way. Garth couldn't fight, and I had to protect him. Once we both reached the Commandant's chambers, I killed him and escaped on a ship.

"I stepped back into the real world, to be greeted by none other than my dog, and an old friend of mine. The world had changed so much, but I still had so much left to do. I had to find one other person, and kill Lucian."

"Who's that?"

"A madman that wanted to rule the world."

"Sounds like an old fable," Logan muttered. Sparrow laughed.

"But in fables, the heroes are made up, and they're always good no matter what. None of them have dark pasts, and no one ever dies without a very good reason."

Sparrow looked up at the sky. It was almost noon, and if she got a ship to Bloodstone, she'd be home by the time the sun went down.

The sound of a bell echoed throughout Westcliff, signaling the arrival of new people. Sparrow was welcomed by whistles and cat-calls, and Logan was ignored. Completely.

"Bunch of low-life, no good, scum," he muttered.

Sparrow looked at him and smiled. "Lighten up," she told him. "May I remind you that you _are_one of them?"

Logan shook his head, and said, "Not by choice."

"Oh, well, why not make them jealous, then?"

Before Logan could say anything, Sparrow had latched onto his arm, and was resting her head on his shoulder. She smiled and waved at the gawking men. A few of them were actually cheering for Logan now, and a few of them started chanting.

"Uh, Sparrow…"

"I hear it, I hear it," she said though her fake smile.

Now most of the bandits were demanding to see one thing: a kiss.

"I think they might get angry if we don't do something…" Logan mumbled.

"Uh huh," Sparrow agreed, looking up at him.

It was then Sparrow saw how… awkward that would be. She only met Logan a day ago, and now she was supposed to kiss him. It was funny, how much life was sped up for a hero. She had been forced to grow up fast, and learn things in mere days that would normally be learned over the course of many years. When it took months for people to fall in love, people would be demanding proposals the day after she met them.

This was no different, and Sparrow knew it. As the two walked, even the women of the town had started chanting.

"Sparrow-"

"I know."

As the voices grew, Sparrow felt her heart racing. She kept looking up at Logan, as if she was asking him silently what to do. The chanting grew louder. It seemed everyone in Westcliff was demanding to see the two kiss.

Sparrow lifted her head from Logan's shoulder, and stopped walking.

"Something wrong?" Logan asked her.

"I was just thinking… No, never mind," Sparrow said, smiling up at him. "I'm fine."

"You were thinking we should kiss, weren't you," Logan said. Sparrow slowly nodded and looked down at the ground. "Well… Why not?"

She looked back up at him, and sighed. "Don't think this… means anything, okay?"

Logan nodded, and Sparrow sighed once more.

Misery, the blonde Reaver had captured, sat cross-legged on the bed in the spare room. She held her head up in the palms of her hands, and had a scowl on her face. The door she stared at was locked, and she could hear voices from the other side. She was, indeed, miserable.

Reaver had tried to get her to talk again once she was brought to the manor, but she kept her mouth shut. He had locked her in the room, saying she could come out when she learned to talk again. Misery figured if she stayed completely silent for long enough, Reaver would have no choice but to see if she was alive.

She sighed and carefully got under the covers of the bed. There was no use in just sitting there, and her limbs had grown numb. The warmth of the bed reminded her of her own bed, in her old home.

At least there wasn't a guard at the door, watching her every move. Misery sighed and began what would be a horribly long day that would lead up to an even worse night.

Sparrow looked up at Logan, and felt a shiver go up her spine as he stared back with silver eyes.

"Here goes nothing. Except my reputation," she mumbled.

Logan leaned down and kissed her, and the crowd around them cheered. Sparrow could hear the men whistling loudly and hooting even louder. A few of them had the nerve to… _encourage_ the two of them.

The sound of a ships bell broke them up. _Saved__by__the__bell.__How__cliché,_ Sparrow thought. Not wanting to wait any longer to get back to Bloodstone, Sparrow took off running. Logan stood still for a moment, then followed her. He figured she was in a big hurry to get home. Why else would she ignore the stairs leading down to the beach and just jump off the cliff?

He took the longer way down, just as she was talking to the captain.

"One to Bloodstone," she told him, glancing back at Logan. "Make it two."

"Ready in five minutes, ma'am."

Sparrow turned to Logan, a smile on her face.

"You're coming with me, right?" she asked.

"I don't see why not. I can't stand being around bandit scum anyway."

Sparrow burst out laughing again. "You're going to need new clothes if you want to keep saying that," she told him. This time, Logan joined her laughter.

As guests arrived at the Bloodstone manor, a ship pulled into the harbor. Reaver noted its presence, but didn't think much of it. He had more pressing matter to attend to… which happened to be convincing Misery to come out of the guest room. The girl had taken the liberty to lock the door from the inside with what furniture she could move. Reaver had only gotten the door open about an inch, and found it was too hard to move. He could, however, see Misery sitting on the bed, glaring right at him. When he asked her nicely to come out, she told him to 'piss off'. He wasn't familiar with the term, but he knew it was an insult. Well, at least she spoke to him again. That was something, right?

It had taken most of Misery's strength to move the cabinets and dressers in front of the door. She was surprised that Reaver could move the door at all. Now, she listened to the laughter and general talk of the party guests. A few of them had found their way upstairs, and one had the nerve to talk to her. She told them to piss off, and they hurried away.

When she was sure the sun had sunk down below the horizon, Misery laid down on top of the bed.

"Sparrow, don't make me go all the way to wherever you are and get you!" she muttered to herself. "In fact, if you don't show up right now-"

As if someone had heard her and answered her prayers, she heard the doors swing open as if they were pushed… or force pushed. The crowd grew instantly silent, and she could only make out one calm, dark, and very familiar voice speak.

"It's been a long time."

When the ship from Westcliff made post, Sparrow was already worried. Almost no one was on the streets. In fact, it looked a bit like a ghost town rather than a port town. The only light she could see came from the far part of the town… her own manor, in fact.

"How could I forget…" she muttered. Logan, who stood at her side, gave her another look. "Looks like I'm going to have to be a party-crasher…"

He still had no clue what she was talking about, but figured it was important. At least, important enough for her to disappear into her cabin and came out in a very posh-looking dress.

The dress she wore made him look twice. She didn't look… right in it. The red fabric and violet trim made her look royal. She wore a masque over most of her face, covering the faded scar as well. Her hair was tied up, and held in place with pins. Her weapons had vanished, but Logan could see a knife hidden in one of her boots.

"Logan… You're staring," Sparrow said, waving a hand in front of his face. He still stared, not realizing she had said something. "Well… I'm off to the manor… Bye."

Later, Logan felt like kicking himself for being such an idiot.

Sparrow walked as quickly as she could through the streets in her dress. The people that were still left on the streets took no notice of her, which she was thankful for. Being recognized now would most likely end in a catastrophe.

A guard stood outside the manor, and Sparrow approached him.

"Name?"

"Lady-" Sparrow stopped, and thought for a second. Reaver probably remembered her, if at all, as Blade. Using that name would earn her a few bullets in the head. "Lady Sparrow."

The guard opened the door and asked a question to whoever was on the other side of the door, then turned back to Sparrow.

"Not invited," he told her. Sparrow sighed, and crossed her arms behind her back. She began channeling her will to create a push.

"You're sure?"

The guard nodded.

"Well… So much for subtle party-crashing," she mumbled.

She brought her hands forward, and released her will, knocking the two guards to the ground. Another blast of will sent the doors flying open. The guests either screamed or ran from the entrance as she entered, drawing her knife from her boot.

Sparrow pointed the knife upward in an accusing fashion at the man who had stolen her manor.

"It's been a long time."

Reaver, who was previously wooing a few of the female guests, looked down at his intruder. The girls ran off, leaving him enough room to draw his pistol.

"Everyone out!" he snapped. The guests flooded out of the manor like water out of a broken dam, leaving him alone with the intruder. Why had she spoken to him like she knew him? Perhaps she did. There had been too many years, and too many girls. "Well, well, well, look what we have here! Lady Bloodstone, I presume? Did you read my note properly, or did you even find it?"

His answer was a knife suddenly suck in the wall next to him.

"Fiery one, aren't you?"

"Cut the crap, Reaver."

"Not a very nice one, either," he muttered, lowering his gun slightly. "But I _did_ warn you, Lady Bloodstone. Was I not clear enough?"

"I figured you'd have found a place in Samarkand and stayed there. For good."

Now how did she know that? And more importantly, why was she even trying to argue with him? The manor was his, and if she wanted to keep her life, she should leave.

"I'm surprised you don't even remember my voice, Reaver. It hasn't been that long."

"How should I know who you are if you keep hiding behind that masque of yours?" Reaver shot back. Much to his delight, she took off the masque… and looked back up at him with eyes the color of the ocean. Reaver put his gun away, and laughed. So she _did_ have some history with him. "My, my, it has been some time, indeed? So what have you been up to these days? Having a bit of an identity crisis, Sparrow dear?"

"Still me, hanging on to that old nickname," she said calmly, watching him with unblinking eyes.

Reaver walked slowly down the staircase, keeping his eyes locked on her. So Sparrow was her true name… and it seemed she had a friend in the manor, as well.

"Where's the pesky mutt, hmm? Run off and gotten itself killed?"

"For one like yourself, I'd figured you stick to the topic at hand, not go changing it."

"Very well… I suppose you want the manor back, and you're going to try and kill me for it, which will end up in you getting yourself killed instead."

Sparrow shook her head as she came face to face with Reaver. "Now why would I want to do that?" she asked.

"Oh, so I'm wrong? Are you sure of that?"

"My plan was I get my manor back, and you get an arrow or a knife through your heart," Sparrow snapped.

"You always were a violent one, my dear. I'm hurt by your words." Reaver acted as if she had smacked him across the face. He began to walk in a slow circle around her, and she followed him with her eyes.

"Don't act like a child Reaver. After living for about three-hundred years, I thought someone like you would ignore such death-threats."

Reaver was close enough to whisper in her ear. A shiver went up her spine, and she did her best to hide the blush that was growing on her face. She turned to face him, and they both stepped in a slow circle. To Sparrow, it seemed as if they were almost dancing.

"And I figured after seeing what I had to do to live that long, you'd give me a bit more respect."

"Bastard," Sparrow muttered.

Logan, along with Cora, sat on the pier and watched the last of the suns light vanish below the water.

"So why didn't you go with her?" Logan asked, looking down at the dog. She only gave a bark in response. "I guess she'll be fine. Though I wish she would have taken her weapons with her so I didn't have to haul them off the ship."

Logan's arms still ached from simply lifting the metal cleaver. He wondered how Sparrow could carry it on her back, let alone fight with it. His mind went back to the moment when she threw it. She hadn't even uttered a whisper of a complaint about being sore. Logan shrugged and looked up toward the manor. He could make out the faint form of a group of people. Sparrow must have crashed whatever party had been going on.

"Such language. I shall have to fix that," Reaver said, smirking at Sparrow. She only glared back. "You know, you should be happy a bit more often. Extends life, or so I hear."

"I'm flattered you care about me," Sparrow muttered sarcastically. "No, really Reaver. It shocks me you care about someone other than yourself."

"Why not? It's not like you have long to live anyway."

"Is that right? Well, we shall see about that."

Sparrow, who quickly noticed Reaver had his hand on his pistol, dropped and rolled away from him. She cursed under her breath for bringing only a knife, but there were other weapons around the house… Leaving the decorative weapons around had been smart.

She pulled the nearest cutlass from the wall, shattering the plaque as she did so. Reaver's face showed some emotion… perhaps he was impressed by her speed. She would have to change that… Which she did, by bringing the cutlass mere inches from his face. He drew his own cutlass to block it, and the two found themselves in a battle of speed.

As the two fought, a certain blonde girl crept silently down towards the fight, with an iron pan in her hands she had stolen from the kitchen further in the manor. She moved slowly and silently down the stairs, watching Reaver's every move. He seemed not to notice her, and was more focused on locking swords with Sparrow, who didn't see her either.

She walked as silently and as quickly as she could, stopping directly behind Reaver. She raised the pan, closed her eyes, and brought it down.

Sparrow felt a sharp pain in her head as soon as Reaver had ducked down, pulling her toward him at the same time. She looked in disbelief, at who had struck her, but was already slipping into darkness. No name came to her mind before she felt herself fall into a pair of strong arms.

"Shit…" Misery mumbled, dropping the pan to the ground. Reaver now held an unconscious Sparrow in his arms, and was glaring at her. "Opps?"

"I wouldn't try that again, girl. You might kill her next time, though I doubt that."

Misery narrowed her eyes at him.

"I was aiming at you, idiot!" she snapped. "How could you not see that?"

Reaver adjusted Sparrow so that he held her bridal-style, and turned away from her. "Hey! I finally talk to you, and you ignore me? You are insufferable, Reaver! No wonder Sparrow said such awful things about you!"

Reaver ignored the now angry blonde, and carried the unconscious Sparrow up the stairs and into the spare room. He laid her down on the bed, and tied her hands to the posts with cloth. He took a seat in the empty chair, and waited for her to awaken. From downstairs he, could hear Misery, still shouting out at him.

"I swear, Reaver, if you hurt her in any way, I'll have your head cut off before you can blink!"

The slamming of the front doors followed, and Reaver laughed. How could Sparrow have ever gotten along with such a girl? He would find out soon enough.

Misery stepped outside, into what turned into a downpour of rain. She made her way to the port, soaking wet by the time she got to the dock. Seeing no one around to tell her which ship to take, she called up to the only man she could see.

"Where is this ship headed?" she called up, pushing her wet hair from her face.

"It's going back to Westcliff in the morning!" the man shouted back. "Why don't you come up? You're soaking wet!"

Misery nodded, and walked up the plank to the deck of the ship. She was greeted by the very familiar face of Cora, Sparrow's dog, and a strange man.

"Let's get out of the rain."

Misery nodded and followed him inside one of the ships cabins. She took a seat on the bed.

"Thank you…" she said, smiling.

"It's no problem. The captain's off getting drunk at the pub anyway. I'm sure he won't mind."

Misery tried to laugh, but a cough came out instead.

"May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Miser- I mean, Joy. My name's Joy," she said, sticking out one of her drenched hands.

"Logan," the man said, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you, Miser-Joy."

Joy laughed, and shook her head. "It's just Joy. I've just been using a different name today, that's all."

Logan nodded, and pulled out one of the wooden chairs. He sat down, and looked at her until she became nervous.

"Something wrong?"

"You… You competed in the Crucible, didn't you?"

Joy's eyes widened. The Crucible was where she met Sparrow, and they ended up fighting their together.

"So you must know Sparrow!"

Joy stood suddenly, her eyes instantly filling with worry.

"Oh, Avo…" she whispered, "I left her there…"

"Joy? Are you alright?"

Joy looked toward the door as if she were going to open it and run out into the rain again, but she stood still.

"Yes, I know her…"

_And __let __her __forgive __me. __That's __one __hell __of __a __way __to __have __a __reunion__… I can only hope she realizes that I could never take on Reaver. Not like this._


	4. Memories

**A/N: Happy Monday!... Yeah, I hate 'em too, but whatever. I can try. If it's already Tuesday by the time you're reading this... Lucky you, you... Monday-skipper! ...Okay, so I fail at jokes. But this chapter gives a bit more background to who exactly someone (not saying who) is.  
>And before I go, I'd like to give a big thanks to one of my reviewers, <span>Drakarn.<span> He/she (I'm not sure... Is that bad?) gave me a few good tips on writing, and has some pretty good stories as well.  
>Once again, please review. It helps me out; makes my writing better. And if you see any mistakes, let me know. On with the show!<br>****~D/P  
>(Oh, and PS: There's an animemanga reference in here, mainly a characters name. See if you can find it, as a challenge, though to be honest, it's not that hard to pick out. But still.)**

**Chapter IV  
><strong>**Memories**

Sparrow's eyes flickered open. The light made her head pound, and she winced. It took her a moment to realize her hands were tied.

"What the hell…"

"Ah, awake at last, are we? That was some nasty blow you took on the head." Sparrow groaned and closed her eyes, feeling a wave of pain go through her head. She could hear Reaver laughing. "Well, maybe you can at least answer a question."

"Untie me first," Sparrow muttered.

"How about I just shoot you and get this all over with, hmm?"

Sparrow sighed and opened her eyes again. She found herself staring down the barrel of a loaded pistol. Her eyes closed again.

"Fine. Ask away, oh hero of skill."

"Why did you even bother returning if you knew I'd kill you?"

"You sure you want to know the answer to that?" Sparrow asked, opened her blue eyes again. She stared past the pistol, looking directly at Reaver. "I forgot about that nice note you left me, and I forgot about you. Everyone did, but I'm sure you reminded them just like you reminded me."

Reaver pulled the pistol away from her and recoiled, as if Sparrow had turned into a snake. A devious smile formed on Sparrows face, and he didn't like it.

"Being forgotten works wonders on one's mind, doesn't it?"

Reaver gave her no answer. He simply armed the pistol and put it to her head.

"I could kill you right now," he growled. The smile left Sparrows face, along with her confidence. "It'd be such a waste, putting a bullet in such a pretty face. Shame."

"Reaver, don't." Sparrow felt afraid of him for the first time in her life, and she was ready to beg for her life. The deep hate in Reaver's eyes scared her more than the gun pressed to her head, though. She had never seen that much hate.

His eyes narrowed, and Sparrow's words were just noise. He was determined to end her, no matter what she said to him. Her blue eyes, glazed over with forming tears, seemed to penetrate him.

Reaver took one last look at her, and pulled the trigger of his gun.

* * *

><p>Joy and Logan left the boat around dawn, followed by Cora who was determined to stay at Joy's side. As the sun slowly moved up into the sky, the two of them took turns telling stories. Joy mostly spoke of the Crucible, only mentioning her family once or twice. Logan stuck to the times before he became a bandit, figuring a hero such as Joy wouldn't be too fond of hearing how he sold people off as slaves or murdered nobles for their money. Both kept part of their past a secret, for their own reasons.<p>

When it came to the topic of Sparrow, however, Joy did the most talking. She told him how brave she was at the Crucible, and how kind she was to let her travel with her. Not once did she mention anything bad about the hero, though Logan figured she had her flaws somewhere.

It was when Joy began asking Logan how he knew Sparrow that Cora began acting strange. The dog growled in the general direction of the manor, and looked like it was going to attack a group of hobbes.

"What is it?" Joy asked, reaching out to stroke the dog. Cora turned and growled at her, and Joy pulled her hand away. "Wonder if someone just got shot…" she whispered, recalling the dog's reaction to gunshots. She turned back to Logan, and smiled. "So, you were saying?"

"She came into the camp and-"

A loud gunshot echoed through the city, and Logan immediately began running toward the manor. Joy followed, but grabbed his arm when he was in reach.

"Leave it alone!" she snapped. Logan turned to her to see her expression had grown rather dark and knowing. "No reason for you to get shot, too. Just ignore it."

"Like hell I will! What if that was Sparrow being shot at?"

"What if it was her doing the shooting?" Joy said. She knew that Sparrow had never fired a gun in her life, and that it was probably Reaver doing the shooting… but just because she was shot at, didn't mean she was dead. "If she doesn't come back by nightfall, we'll go look for her."

_He __never __misses. __It's __crazy. __The __more __impossible __shot, __the __faster __the __crew __surrenders._ Now who had said that? Joy was sure she had heard something like that said, but she didn't remember who had said it.

_He __never __misses._

* * *

><p>Blood welled up on Sparrow's cheek. The bullet Reaver had fired only grazed her, and she was alive. Confused on why he had missed, Sparrow opened her eyes looking for any answers. What she saw only puzzled her more. Reaver stood, staring down at her with the exact same look in his green eyes he had when first seen her: curiosity.<p>

"Why is it every time I try to kill you, something stops me…" he whispered.

Sparrow said nothing and stared back at him. He should have ended her! He missed a shot that a drunken man could have made! So why did he miss…

"If you're not going to kill me, then could you at least untie me?"

Reaver stood silent for a moment, as if he was thinking about it, then he spoke in his usual 'I-could-care-less-about-you' tone of voice.

"I think I should be able to trust you first. After all, _you_ did try to kill me. Why should I trust you?"

Sparrow sighed and blinked a few times. Reaver still stared back at her.

"Well, are you going to stare at me all day or are you going to at least let me sleep?" she asked, annoyance hinting in her voice. "I'm not some strange animal, so stop looking at me like one!" Sparrow wondered if spitting in his face would get him to leave her alone.

"For once, my dear, you're right. I have to go organize another party for tonight, since it seems you ruined the last one."

Sparrow rolled her eyes and watched Reaver leave, shutting and locking the door behind him. She listened for him to leave the manor, and she heard the doors shut, she began pulling on the cloth that bound her to the bed.

She worked into a sitting position, and began undoing the knots with her teeth. When that didn't work, she used what will she could and pushed on the bed post. It cracked, but didn't break. She gave another push, and the wood split. With a hard yank the post snapped, and she now had use of one hand. The cloth and wood were still attached, but she would fix that soon.

With little effort, Sparrow untied the cloth from her other wrist, and cut away the rest with a decorative sword. The locked door was the last of her problems, and then she could at least talk to Reaver properly. Now all she had to do was unlock the door and change her clothes. Her old outfit was on the ship in her travel bag, but she kept spare clothes around the house. She opened one of the closets and pulled out her gypsy outfit. She changed quickly, and stuffed the dress back into the closet.

She looked at the sword she had in her hand, and shrugged. It would be too easy to just knock the door down. So Sparrow used the tip of the sword to pick the lock. Within minutes, the door opened and she was free… Until Reaver saw her, anyway. Sparrow had a feeling he wasn't going to let her leave quite that easily.

She walked down to the front entrance, hesitating to open the door. There were still things she had left in the study. Getting everything and leaving wouldn't take long, right?

* * *

><p>Joy and Logan had taken to sitting at one of the tables outside of the pub, waiting for Sparrow. The pleasant chatting had stopped after a while, and the two sat in silence. Sparrow's dog, Cora, had run off to who-knows-where, probably to find her owner.<p>

Joy hated silence, no matter how much she was used to it. Relief washed over her when she found a chance to speak again.

One of the local Bloodstone 'ladies', if they could even be called that, had been staring at Logan from behind for some time, and she now was flaunting over to him.

"Hey, why don't the two of us check in at the pub and-"

Joy stood up, pulling Logan's pistol out of its holster as she did.

"Piss off," she muttered, aiming the gun at her. The girl backed up, hiding her fear behind a smile. Logan grabbed Joy's arm, and she looked down at him. When he opened his mouth to speak, she yanked her arm away from him and stormed off, muttering to herself.

"What's wrong with her?" the Bloodstone lady asked. Logan shook his head and sighed.

"Not my girl, and clearly not my business."

Joy glanced back at Logan, only to see him talking to the wretch again. It wasn't like her to get angry over someone she just met- she was taught to be passive at a very young age. It had been the Crucible that had changed her in such a way. That, and knowing what she really was.

_Joy looked up at the walls of the Crucible and trembled. The slaughter that went on in that place had been horrific, so she wondered how her family enjoyed it. Throughout the fight, everyone seemed to be rooting for the challenger to die. Joy had been forced to watch as the poor man was ripped to pieces by balverines. The announcers seemed nice enough when they cheered at the end of every round, but she thought twice when they took the death of the challenger as nothing more than a dead fly on the ground._

_ Her parents were already buying tickets for another 'game', and Joy refused to go anywhere near it. So she walked through the town, trying to brush off the dirty looks that some of the men gave her. _

_ As she walked, she noticed the glint of metal on someone's back. A huge cleaver was tied to the back of someone at the pub, and Joy could make out the faded stains of blood. She stopped and stared for a bit too long; one of the bandit men had wrapped an arm around her waist. _

_ "Hey! Get off of me!" she snapped, trying to pull away from him. The person with the cleaver turned, and much to Joy's surprise, it was a girl around her own age. "Stop it!"_

_ The cleaver-girl approached, drawing her weapon. Her blue eyes, though dull, held nothing but hate. Joy watched her press the cleaver up against the man's neck. _

_ "Let her go, unless she's the last face you want to see in this world."_

_ The man let go of her without question, and backed away. The cleaver-girl replaced her weapon, and turned to Joy, who expected a 'you-should-be-more-careful-' line, and a small smile. She didn't get it. _

_ "Rich people like you shouldn't be here if you can't defend yourselves. Go back to where you came from, and stop taking so much joy out of seeing people get slaughtered at the Crucible."_

_ Joy opened her mouth to say something, but the cleaver-girl had stalked off back to her seat at the pub. _

_ "JOY! Get over here now! I'm not letting you stay out here and waste the money we spent on this ticket!"_

_ Joy winced at the sound of her father's voice, and walked slowly back toward the Crucible. The second she was in her father's range, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the building. _

_ "Wait, daddy! I forgot something!"_

_ Joy's father turned to her, letting her wrist go. _

_ "Two minutes. That's all you get, then I want you back here."_

_ Joy nodded and ran off toward one of the stalls. Almost every kind of weapon decorated the small booth, and Joy pulled out what money she had with her. _

_ "You lookin' for a souvenir, girly?" the man running the stall asked her. Joy nodded, then shook her head. "Well, 'ich one is it?"_

_ "I'm… entering the Crucible," Joy said quickly. "I need a- new weapon. Mine's too… uh… old?"_

_ The man laughed and turned to the swords hanging from a rope in the back of the stall. _

_ "Sword's alright?" he asked. _

_ "No, I was actually looking for…" her voice trailed off for a moment as her eyes wandered. She saw what looked like a newly-made cleaver, and pointed to it. "That."_

_ The man turned back and raised an eye brow. _

_ "Really now… Ye look a bit too… young… for something like that."_

_ "Well, it's what I want. How much?"_

_ "For the master cleaver? Well… let me make you a deal, girly."_

_ "My name's Joy," she muttered. 'Girly' made her sound like, well… a little kid, or something. _

_ "Joy, right… If ye can survive the Crucible, ye get it fir free. Die, and well… I'll be doing some body searching."_

_ All the color drained from Joy's face in less than two seconds, but she nodded her head in agreement anyway. _

_ "Anythin' else, gir- Joy?" the man asked as he handed her the cleaver. Joy took her new weapon, a bit shocked at how light it was, and looked around the stall once more. _

_ "That. The clockwork pistol."_

_ The man nodded and gave her the pistol, again with no charge if she won. Joy took it and hooked it to the belt she wore around her blue dress. As she walked away, the man called to her. _

_ "I'd get new clothes if ye plan on fighting in the Crucible, Joy!"_

_ The new clothes were a bit harder to find, and her two minutes were up. She quickly found another stall that sold clothes, and bought a long-coat. There was no time for anything else, so she slipped it on over her new cleaver, and hurried back to her father. _

_ "Ready daddy," she said, smiling at her glaring father. "Well, are we going or not?"_

_ He gave a grunt in reply, and the two joined the rest of Joy's family at the gates. They all went in, and Joy sat as near to the doors as she could. When one of the announcers gave the 'five-minutes-'till-slaughter' call, Joy excused herself to get some food. _

_ She snuck out into the entry room, where she found herself working quickly to prepare herself for entry. The long blue dress she wore would be horrible to fight in, so she borrowed a knife from one of the contestants, telling them her brother had gotten tied up in some rope. _

_ Making sure no one saw her, she used the knife to cut the dress so it looked more like an oversized shirt. The stall-vendor gladly sold her a pair of trouser, which she slipped on. _

_ Joy then shrugged off her long-coat, and took off her cleaver. She replaced the coat, and then the cleaver over it. Just as she was ready to speak to the guard at the door, she noticed the cleaver-girl was signing up as well. Not wanting to miss a chance to at least talk to her, Joy raced up to her. _

_ "No wonder you wanted me to leave, seeing you were entering," she said, smiling when the cleaver-girl turned to look at her. _

_ "Well, the rich girl isn't so nice after all. Here to fight?" Joy nodded, though she still wasn't sure about entering in what would most likely kill her. "Why don't we go together then? No reason we can't, right?" _

_ They both looked at the guard, who shrugged._

_ "Name's please," he said. "I'll need to tell Mad-Dog about the changes."_

_ "Name's Blade. And this is…"_

_ Joy thought fast. She had to come up with a stage name, or else her family would stop the fight before it began. Blade had the same thought, apparently, and answered for her. _

_ "This is Princess Ai, my partner," she said. Joy gave her a strange look, but Blade just shrugged her shoulders, and walked in as soon as the gates opened. _

_ As the two walked, Blade pulled a black masque out from the pocket in her jacket. _

_ "Put this on. It'll help you hide from your parents."_

_ "How did you know-"_

_ "Listen to me Joy. I don't know if you have something to prove, but just stick to the shadows, and shoot what you can with that clockwork you just bought. If you can shoot, that is." Joy stopped and stared at Blade for a moment. She looked back at her, and smiled. "Showtime, Princess Ai. Let's see what you got."_

_ Joy, still a bit shocked, nodded and put on her masque. The stone doors in front of them opened, and the voice of Mad-Dog McGraw echoed in the arena the two girls now stood in. _

_ "Now, by popular demand, we have a new challenger! The famed hero of Albion, the slayer of balverines, the savior of Bowerstone. Blade! And we have quite a surprise today. Blade is not alone, ladies and gentlemen! Fighting alongside her is none other than the mystifying, regal, young warrior woman from a far-off land! Princess Ai!"_

_ Blade and Joy looked at each other. _

_ "Wonder if he made that up on the spot," Blade muttered, drawing her cleaver. Joy shrugged and pulled out her clockwork pistol. Her eyes scanned the audience, and she spotted her family. They apparently hadn't noticed her disappearance, and were cheering for the first round to begin. Joy remembered it well. _

_ "Beetles. That's first," she told Blade as the ugly bugs started to appear. _

_ "You'd think they could at least give us something interesting… like wolves," Blade muttered back. _

_ The first wave of beetles was taken down in less than ten seconds by Blade's cleaver. Joy only fired a single shot, the first in her life. When the second and third rounds began, she and Blade seemed to split the fighting in half. To Blade, it was child's-play. To Joy, it was the start of the Crucible, and possibly the most excitement she'd get to have in her life. The round ended in sixty seconds. _

_ The nest two rounds were hobbes, and the two girls found it very easy. Joy was surprised that every shot she made hit one of the creatures, as if she had used a gun before and was a master of skill. _

_ The__hollow-men __round __proved __to __be __trouble, __but __the __hoards __of __undead __went __down __easily once their numbers began to dwindle. __Joy __used __her __cleaver __with __little __trouble, __and __the __fighting __became __sort __of__… _fun _for __Joy.__Then __the __next __round __began._

_ Bandits awaited them in the next round, and Joy saw a bit of hesitation in Blade's eyes. Joy, however, found herself killing just to stay alive. The blood was the only thing that bothered her. Highway men followed the bandits, and Joy found herself growing numb to the battle. At the end of the round, she looked back to where her family was. They still didn't seem to notice her disappearance, and were too busy cheering for either her or Blade to be killed. If only they knew who's death they were cheering for. _

_ When all the highwaymen had been killed, the doors opened and the two girls exited the arena. Blade stopped half-way to the next arena, and turned to Joy. _

_ "How are you not dead yet?" she asked bluntly. _

_ "Luck? I don't know. Maybe I was born to do this," Joy said, shrugging. Blade nodded with a questioningly look in her eyes, and kept walking. _

_ "Balverines are next, you know," Joy said._

_ "I know. I can smell death from here. Whoever entered before me didn't make it, did they?"_

_ "No, they died in this round."_

_ "I hope they got rid of the body. Don't want to be distracted, do we?"_

_ Joy shook her head, but Blade took no notice. They entered the ring, and the round began. Joy had never seen a balverine until that day, and she was already shooting one into the ground. _

_ "Behind you!" Blade yelled. _

_ Joy drew her cleaver and spun around, causing the head of the attacking balverine to roll off. She stepped backward, in an attempt not to be injured by the falling body. She wasn't fast enough, however. The claws of the headless creature cut the cord that held her masque on. _

_ "Well, now we can see the face of this Princess Ai! And isn't she a gorgeous lady!" _

_ Ignoring the balverine around her, Joy looked up at her family. They were all silent with shock. She narrowed her eyes, and ducked down as a balverine tried to run her down. Its claws cut deep into her shoulder, but she felt nothing. She drew her clockwork pistol, aimed, and readied to fire. A frantic cry made her lose focus._

_ "STOP THE FIGHT!" _

_ Joy looked up for only an instant at her mother, and was knocked to the ground by a balverine. Her gun went off, hitting it in the leg. Blade's cleaver finished it, and Joy was pulled to her feet. _

_ "STOP IT NOW! THAT'S MY DAUGHTER DOWN THERE!"_

_ Joy glared at her mother and the balverines vanished from the arena. Blade was equally disappointed that the fight had been stopped. _

_ "Some mum you've got there. No wonder you have a death wish," Blade mumbled. _

_ "I don't have a death wish, Blade. I just wanted to have some fun."_

_ "Don't call me that," Blade snapped. "It's not my name."_

_ The room had grown silent by then, and guards were entering the arena. Joy had half a mind to kill one of them if they tried to grab her. _

_ Blade turned to Joy's terrified family. _

_ "Let her finish this!" she called up. "She's made it this far, why stop now?"_

_ Joy was too preoccupied with the approaching guards and didn't hear her words. _

_ "Well, how about it ladies and gents? Should we keep going or what?" Mad-Dog's voice asked. The response was most of the crowd chanting for the fight to continue. The guards backed away and left the arena. _

_ "This is insanity!" Joy's mother called from the stands. _

_ "And you cheer it on and on," Joy called up, gripping the handle of her cleaver. The balverines re-appeared, and the round continued. Most of the creatures fell at Blade's feet, and Joy wondered how many someone had to kill to know their every move, like she did. _

_ The last round seemed easy. Only three balverines entered the arena, but they were bigger than the others. Blade looked a bit worried as she fought, and she moved more than normal. _

_ Joy found herself staring one of the white balverines in the face, and she brought her cleaver down, burying it in the balverines shoulder. It let out a scream, but didn't go down. The instant Joy drew her cleaver back to hit it again, the balverine opened its jaws and went for the neck. Joy tumbled backward, and felt everything slow down. The balverine seemed to be frozen, moving as if it was underwater. _

_ Joy pulled out her clockwork pistol and fired three times, and the balverine fell dead. The round had finished, and there was only one left to go. Blade and Joy exited the arena, and Blade stopped as soon as the stone doors closed behind them. _

_ "You could have mentioned you can use will, you know," she muttered. "You could have told me you were a hero."_

* * *

><p>Sparrow entered the study and opened the brown bag that sat on the table. She walked over to one of the bookshelves, and pulled out a very old, very thick book. Dust flew from it as she dropped it on the table and opened it. Most of the pages had been cut in the middle, and the space had been filled with gold. Sparrow emptied the gold into her bag, and closed the book.<p>

She repeated the process with three more of the books, replacing each after she had retrieved the gold inside. Now she began to pull out some of the thinner books, stuffing them into the bag. One fell to the floor, and opened up. Sparrow's handwriting was inside, along with a date at the top of the page. She picked it up and put it in the bag, pausing for a moment to look around the room.

If Reaver was serious about keeping her in the manor, he would most likely track her down without any trouble. That's what Sparrow thought, at least. Her mind was spinning so much she could hardly think straight.

She walked to the back of the study and pulled a decorative gun from its plaque, not knowing or caring what she had taken. Her main thought was the fewer weapons around for Reaver to use, the better. As she walked back to the table, a book fell from a shelf, landing open on the floor. Sparrow turned back and picked it up, looking at the title. Reaver had written it, and of course it was about him.

Sparrow put the gun she had taken in her bag, and flipped through the pages of the book. A few rough drawings accompanied the text, and she shut the book.

_One__for__the__road,_ she thought, placing the book in her bag. She pulled the string around the mouth of the bag, and closed it up. With one last look around the study, she flung the bag onto her back and exited the study.

The second she reached for the door handle, she heard voices on the other side. Reaver was back, and he had brought a few _friends_. Sparrow tensed, and ran back up the stairs to the guest room where she was supposed to be tied up. Just as she shut the door to the room, she heard the front door open.

_Think __Sparrow, __think! __He'll __be __back __to __check __on __you, __and __when __he __sees __you're __not __tied __up__… __Well, __he __won't __be __too __pleased. __There __aren__'__t __any __windows __to __climb __out __of __either, __so __getting __back __out __of __this __room __and __onto __the __balcony __in __the __back __is __the __only __way._

Following her minds advice, Sparrow opened the door- and came face to face with Reaver.

"Well, look who got out of bed to greet me! Such a clever thing you are. Ladies, I'm sorry, but I must speak with the lady of the house."

Sparrow tried to run, but Reaver already had a hand around her wrist. The two girls accompanying him left, muttering to each other.

"Let go," Sparrow growled through her teeth, glaring at Reaver.

"Not until I've had my fun, Sparrow dear," Reaver said with a smirk.

"If you think you can have any girl you want-"

"My dear, for once I only want answers! Am I really that predictable?"

"What do you want to know?" Sparrow snapped.

Reaver sighed and shook his head.

"Always to the point. Really, Sparrow, how do you carry on a conversation without idle chit-chat?"

"I manage," Sparrow snapped back. "Now what do you want?"

"Well, seeing you have quite a lot of money hidden around here, why stay? Why not buy that nice castle and bother the nobles instead of-"

"Bother _you_?" Sparrow finished, raising an eye brow. "Why, Reaver! I didn't know what a pain I could be! Just because I'm not begging you to sleep with me doesn't make me that bad," she paused and looked at Reaver like a scolded child. "Does it?"

Reaver scoffed at her, and let go of her wrist.

"Besides, I'm not that rich anyway. Buying Castle Fairfax would take me about two months of work, and I have nowhere else to live." The last statement was a lie, but what right did Reaver have to kick her out of her own house? She bought it with her own money from the remaining maids, and worked very hard for the money it took to buy it!

The smirk that formed on Reaver's face made Sparrow shudder. He was thinking about some way to get the manor back. She could just feel it.

"I propose we play a little… game," Reaver said. "And whoever looses has to leave."

"And the rules of this game are…?"

"Well, to make it interesting, if one of us becomes… attached to the other, they lose."

Sparrow rolled her eyes as if Reaver was joking. She knew he was serious, and thinking he could win this… game, as he called it. And it would be an honor to prove him wrong.

After making the deal with Reaver, which to Sparrow felt more like making a deal with the Shadow Court, she left to find Logan. She found him easily enough at the pub, drinking a bottle of ale.

"Once a bandit, always a bandit," she said as she walked over to him. Logan turned around, looking a bit shocked to see her. "What? Did you honestly think I was dead or something?"

Logan shook his head.

"Then why the long face?" Sparrow asked. "After seeing what I could do fighting balverines, I think you'd at least trust me a bit."

"That's not the problem," Logan muttered. Sparrow rolled her eyes, doubting that very much. It was clear to her that Logan had taken a liking to her. Maybe he just didn't know it himself yet.

"So what's the problem?"

Before Logan could answer, a familiar voice cried out Sparrow's name, and the crier tackled her from behind. Sparrow, though not expecting her, knew who she was instantly.

"Hello to you too, Joy," she muttered, waiting for the happy blonde to get off her back. She turned to see her old friend, who hugged her properly this time.

"Sparrow, I missed you so much! You came just when I needed you to!" Joy said, letting Sparrow catch her breath.

"You needed me? I thought you could take care of yourself, hero," Sparrow said, smiling.

"About that… You see, I was sort of… _drained_ of my will power. Long story. And my parents refused to let me carry a weapon after they got me back home. So, when I tried to run away again, I couldn't do much about being sold off to Reaver..."

Sparrow blinked.

"Say that again? _Reaver_bought you?" Joy nodded. "And did he-"

"No, none of that. He just brought me into the manor, then you showed up. And then I… kinda hit you with a pan… Sorry?"

Sparrow burst out laughing, making Joy a bit confused.

"Wait, wait, wait… You hit her with a pan?" Logan asked from behind Sparrow. "Are you insane or something?"

"No… I was aiming at Reaver, idiot!" Joy snapped. Sparrow almost forgot how fast her moods could change. "Why would I try to hit her anyway?"

Logan held up his hands, one holding a beer bottle, as if to say 'I'm innocent'. Sparrow managed to calm herself down.

"Well, Joy, I'm afraid I'll be living with Reaver for a while… We sort of made a deal."

"_YOU __WHAT?_" both Joy and Logan said in unison.

Sparrow laughed weakly again, and rubbed the back of her head with embarrassment.

"Well, it was that or go to live in Bowerstone, and try to get enough money to buy the castle there."

"Well, why not do that?" Joy asked.

"It's not the same. Bowerstone is where I grew up, and that castle… It holds too many bad memories. Of my sister, mainly."

Joy frowned, and sighed.

"Whatever you do isn't up to me. Just- just be careful, okay? That man's a deviant."

"Talking about me already, eh? I knew you'd come around."

Sparrow and Joy turned to see Reaver with a smug look on his face.

"I'll punch that smirk right off of your ugly face, Reaver!" Joy shouted, curling both of her hands into fists.

"Well, no wonder you two get along so well. I could mistake you for sisters if I didn't know better."

Joy and Sparrow exchanged looks, and Sparrow sighed.

"Reaver, this really isn't the time," Sparrow mumbled. "Just because we now live in the same house doesn't mean you have to watch my every move like a jealous husband."

Reaver shrugged the insult off.

"My dear Sparrow, I only came to invite you to my party! Seeing you _live_ where it will happen, though, I'm sure you'll join in."

"Jee, thanks Reaver. Real nice of you," Sparrow muttered sarcastically.

"And be sure to wear something a bit more… lady-like, hmm?"

Before Sparrow had a chance to answer, Reaver walked- flaunted, really- off to invite whoever else he pleased.

"Bloody annoying old man," Sparrow mumbled to herself.


	5. Dance with the Devil

**A/N: Oh, god. This is why I should pay less attention to school. I got a bit... distracted, to say the least, and forgot to update this story last Monday. Well... school played a part, I guess. Writers block, new fanfiction ideas that won't leave me alone, and my shiny copy of Skyrim have kept me well occupied. I apologize to those who have been wondering... Real life can be a bitch, no?  
><strong>**Anyway... as normal, if you like what you read, please review! If you see a mistake, review or shoot me a message. It really doesn't take that long, and I feel extremely stupid when I find a mistake on my own _after_ putting a chapter up.  
>As far as this one goes, I try to make Reaver seem a bit more... human. Even though he <em>does<em> have a set character in-game of this sexy pirate god-like person, you never really see much of him to know how he thinks. I try to get inside that mans head and find out what's going on. Forgive me if I fail; there are times when my judge of character is off, but I do try my best.  
>With all that ranting out of the way... Shall we get on with the show?<strong>

**~D/P **

**PS: Looking back on this... Somehow, a crap-ton of my chapter titles just so happen to be named after Two Steps From Hell songs. For some, the song inspired the chapter... as for this one, though, the sharing of the name 'Dance with the Devil' was simply an odd happening I will never understand. Just wanted to clear that up, just so people don't think I'm ripping off a great music-group... person/people... Whatever you want to call them.  
>Also... Line-breaks. I tried to find a way around them, but in my eyes, I couldn't see any way of re-writing without messing up the order of events I wanted to happen. <strong>

**Chapter V**

**Dance with the Devil**

Joy and Sparrow stood in the master bedroom, looking at themselves in a mirror. Despite Joy's attempts to get out of going to the party with Sparrow, she gave up when she saw what Sparrow had planned. 'If the deal was whoever falls for the other leaves first, I might as well try to win,' she had said.

Now, Sparrow stood in one of the nicest dresses she owned. It was red with white flowers stitched down one side. The long sleeves covered the fading white scars on her arms, but she still wore gloves to cover them entirely. Her black hair was done up and tied with a strip of silk.

Joy almost matched Sparrow, except the color of her dress was black, and there wasn't any design on it. Her hair was done up in the same fashion, and she wore gloves was well.

"Well, ready to go?" Joy asked, her hand on the door.

"I need a minute. I'll meet you down there, Joy," Sparrow said.

Joy nodded and left the room, disappearing into the manor. Sparrow waited for a moment, then walked over to the wooden table. On it was the bag she had put most of her hidden money and books in. She dumped everything out onto the table and picked up the book Reaver had written. She opened it up and flipped through the pages.

One of the pages had a very detailed drawing of a girl, whom Sparrow recognized as herself. Under it was a caption that read _'Strange __Girl'_. Sparrow rolled her eyes at it, and read the page opposite to it.

_'While I was having another statue of myself made, this strange girl comes into my manor, stinking of Wraithmarsh. It surprises me that both her body (which I might add is quite impressive) and her mind are intact. Most people that make it out are missing arm or babbling about banshees and hollow men. This nobody wanted my help, so I sent her off to make herself known. I know who she is, though. And Lord Lucian will pay a fine price for her return to the Spire._

_ 'I have other plans for her before I give her back, however. That dammed seal has appeared again, and I'm sure Lord Lucian won't mind getting this girl back a bit more drained of life. '_

The next passage was newer, and Sparrow guessed Reaver had written it this morning. She wondered why.

_'My return to Bloodstone has brought many surprises indeed. That pesky Sparrow is back to stay it seems. I have to wonder if she has some sort of deal as well, because she hasn't seemed to age at all since I last saw her. Perhaps she will be a bit more agreeable than before. If only I could know what she is thinking behind those blue eyes, then for once I might have some peace.'_

Sparrow closed the book and put it back in her bag. About five minutes had gone by, and Joy had to be wondering where she was. With one last glance at herself in the mirror, she opened the door and made her way down the narrow hallway. The party already had a few drunks around, and Sparrow winced, seeing one had already passed out on the floor.

Reaver saw her almost instantly, and called to her. She did her best to ignore him and keep walking, but a firm hand on her shoulder made her focus on him.

"My, don't you look nice, my little minx."

Sparrow shot him a dark glare.

"I showed up, but I'm not going to be your date or anything," Sparrow muttered, pulling away from him. Reaver gave her a look that reminded her of Cora, and she rolled her eyes. "I already have a dog. I don't need two," she muttered, turning away from him. He grabbed her shoulder again and turned her back toward him.

"I wouldn't do that," Reaver said. "I might have to shoot you if you continue to insult me at my own party.

As he spoke, Sparrow made sure she had his full attention. It appeared she did, because he didn't seem to notice the swooning girls around the two of them. She slowly reached around to the back to her dress, feeling for the small flap in the back. She found it and pulled out a small dagger.

"Let me try to explain," Sparrow said calmly, gripping the dagger. "Let go of me now-" She took a step toward Reaver so she could whisper in his ear. The dagger in her hand was at his side, positioned so he could feel it, but no one could see it. "Or I may have a mess to clean up later. Do I make myself clear?"

The grip on her shoulder loosened, and Reaver let Sparrow step back. She slipped the dagger into the pouch at the back of her dress again. No one saw her do it but Reaver.

"I should have known this minx had teeth," he said, smirking at her. He turned to the girls around him. "Now, who would like to hear of how I killed one of the most feared pirates that ever lived?"

Reaver and his 'fans' walked away to the other side of the room, leavening Sparrow alone. She sighed and turned toward the door. It wouldn't take much to slip away…

"You aren't gonna leave me here, are you?"

Joy's voice made Sparrow jump slightly. She turned to the blonde, who had her hands on her hips.

"I was thinking about it," Sparrow muttered.

Joy shook her head.

"And leave me here with Reaver?"

"Relax. He's preoccupied with his fans at the moment." Sparrow said, sighing. Joy giggled. "What?"

"You're acting like one of them, Sparrow."

"One of what?"

"Reaver's fans, that's what."

Joy giggle again at Sparrow, who now had a red face.

"What are you talking about?" She took a step toward Joy. "I would never be a…_fan_… of that egotistical, narcissistic, arrogant, big-headed-"

"My, Sparrow, I had no idea you had so many names for me. I'm starting to wonder how long this game of ours will last with you acting that."

Sparrow spun around. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't think of anything to say. Joy, thankfully, said something for her.

"Piss off Reaver."

Reaver made a face at Joy, and turned his attention back to Sparrow.

"I do believe the music is starting. Would you care to dance?"

Sparrow blinked and Joy giggled behind her.

"She'd _love_ to, Reaver," Joy said, giving Sparrow a nudge toward him. "She's all yours. For dancing, I mean. Nothing more."

"Wha-"

Before Sparrow could think, she was being dragged onto the dance floor by Reaver. The band he had hired (or most likely just threatened) started the music. Sparrow found herself staring at Reaver and dancing with him, not able to say anything to protest. She could see Joy in the crowd watching the two of them, and she glared at her. Joy only smiled and waved back to her.

Other couples joined in on the dancing. Soon enough, almost the whole manor was filled with dancing people. Sparrow kept her eyes locked on Reaver, however. She couldn't help but be fixed on him. He continued to stare right back at her, his face just as blank as hers.

About half way through the dance, Sparrow regained her senses, and was able to find something to say to Reaver.

"I hope you're not enjoying this," she muttered. Reaver chuckled.

"But I am. It was nice of your friend Misery to offer you up like that."

"Reaver, I think you're having trouble remembering names tonight. That was Joy."

"Did I ever mention correcting me is a bad idea?" Reaver asked, giving Sparrow somewhat of a glare.

"Did I ever mention I have a knife in the back of my dress that I sink into your heart at any moment?" Sparrow said, mocking him.

Reaver remained silent after that. Sparrow couldn't help but grin.

* * *

><p>Joy watched Sparrow and Reaver from the edge of the dance floor, wondering if she had made a mistake. She despised Reaver, and would do anything to make him miserable. So she wondered why she made Sparrow dance with him, which obviously made him somewhat happier.<p>

_At least he won't bother me,_ Joy thought. _Sparrow might kill me, though._

Joy sighed and looked around the room. She knew no one except Sparrow and Reaver, and they were both preoccupied. Everyone else was either a visiting noble, or a Bloodstone whore. Joy despised both types, so she had little company. Until she noticed Logan.

She waved to him, trying to catch his attention. He saw her, and made his way through the dancing couples to her.

"Joy, I didn't think you'd be here."

"I could say the same to you," Joy said, grinning.

"Where's Sparrow? I need to talk to her about this deal she made with Reaver. I'm not sure he's the type to get… _involved_ with."

Joy grew pale very quickly. Logan gave her a puzzled look, and she sighed.

"You haven't seen her yet, have you?" Joy sighed. Logan shook his head. "Prepare yourself for a bit of a shock, then."

Without even having to look, Joy pointed out a single dancing couple: Sparrow and Reaver. Logan stared, wide-eyed for a moment. Joy glanced at Sparrow, and she immediately cursed colorfully. It seemed Sparrow was having _fun_ dancing with Reaver. Logan gave her another look, but she didn't notice.

"Oh, Avo, what have I done?" Joy muttered, hitting herself in the head with the palm of her hand.

* * *

><p>Sparrow, no matter what she told herself, was indeed enjoying the dance. It wasn't often she had fun… and she never saw dancing with Reaver as fun. And apparently, he noticed.<p>

"Enjoying yourself for once, Sparrow?" Reaver asked, grinning at her. Sparrow felt a blush creep onto her face.

"It's more fun than listening to a banshee, I guess," she muttered. "But, to be honest, fighting is much easier than dancing."

Reaver chuckled, and spun Sparrow around a few times. He looked over to where Joy was, and caught her staring at them.

"I think your friend has taken an interest as to why you're enjoying this, as well."

"Well, let go of me and I'll walk away. No need for her to get suspicious, right?"

Reaver was about to reply, but he found Sparrow was yanked from him by another man. Before anyone could think, Reaver pulled out a pistol he hid in his coat, and had it pointed at the man. Sparrow, acting just as fast, pulled the knife from the back of her dress and had it to Reaver's neck. The crowd grew silent, and the music stopped abruptly.

"Shoot him, Reaver, and he won't be the only dead body around here," Sparrow hissed. Reaver, for once, was a bit shocked at how fast she was, and how quickly she went from enjoying herself to making death-threats. She was fascinating, indeed. "Put the gun down, Reaver," she demanded, pushing the knife so it was just about to cut into his neck.

Reluctantly, Reaver lowered the gun. Sparrow took the knife away from his neck, but kept it in her hand.

"This is the second party you have ruined for me, Sparrow dear. Both times by frightening my guests with a knife, too."

Sparrow ignored him and turned to the man that grabbed her. She looked just as angry with him.

"And what the hell were you trying to do, Logan! You could have been shot dead in a matter of seconds."

"Sparrow, I-"

"Look, I thought I made it clear that when we kissed in Westcliff, it meant _nothing_. Have you forgotten that, or what?"

The man called Logan shook his head, and Reaver smirked. It seemed Sparrow hated every man she came in contact with. She even felt hate toward Garth for being what she called 'a man who she wasted ten years of her life for, and couldn't even fight for himself'.

Sparrow yanked herself out of Logan's grip. She gave both him and Reaver a dark glare, then left for her room. A blonde girl Reaver recognized as Joy followed after her in a hurry, stopping once to look back at him. The look in her eyes said 'you'd better apologize for this'.

Joy vanished up the stairs, and a dark silence fell over the crowd. It took the band a few moments to resume playing, but when they did, everyone except Logan and Reaver went back to dancing and talking. Reaver turned to Logan, and the two glared at each other.

"I think it'd be best if you left. You've caused enough trouble for one night."

* * *

><p>Sparrow sat on the bed in the middle of her room, muttering curses to herself. Her hero friend stood with her back to her door. After listening to Sparrow talk to herself for quite some time, Joy spoke.<p>

"You know, Logan was only trying to protect you. We both think this bet you made with Reaver will make you crazy… and homeless."

Sparrow looked up at Joy with an unreadable expression.

"You honestly think I'll lose to that… immortal freak?"

"Sparrow, are you just as blind as Theresa? I mean, he might be annoying beyond compare, but he does have some… talents, I guess."

Sparrow sighed and stood up, looking at her friend.

"I know, Joy. And I also know what I'm doing. Reaver has his weaknesses, and I can figure them out. And I already know he has some kind of feelings for me."

Joy raised an eye brow at Sparrow's determination.

"Well, I have one word of advice for you. You may have survived the dance, Sparrow, but I'm sure that devil has more planned for you. And it's going to start with him knocking on that door, and asking what happened to you."

The instant Joy finished speaking, a knock came at the door, followed by Reaver's voice.

"Sparrow?"

* * *

><p><em>"Three<em>_… __two__… __one."_

_ Explosions came from inside the tunnel, and rocks fell down around the entrance. Sparrow grinned at Reaver, shaking her head. It was hard for her not to burst out laughing. The simple fact he had planned out everything amused her. _

_ For her, though, the fun didn't last long. Reaver's ship, which he named after himself, exploded just as a Great Shard floated down from the sky. _

_ "Here we go again," Sparrow muttered, watching as guards materialized onto the beach. Everyone resumed their roles in battle. Hammer kept Garth from being killed while he attacked the Great Shard, and Sparrow and Reaver fought off whoever came their way. _

_ However, when in close combat, Sparrow noticed Reaver wasn't that good of a fighter. About five of the ten guards had surrounded him, and one raised a sword to attack Reaver. Sparrow plunged her cleaver into the heart of the guard she was fighting, and pulled out her wooden crossbow. With only one hand, Sparrow fired a single, poison arrow at one of the guards. She wasn't sure, but she guessed the arrow was probably staring Reaver in the face by now. The living guards turned to face her as she loaded the next arrow, and fired. It hit one of the guards in the head, and he collapsed. Sparrow ducked as the remaining guards took aim and fired at her with their pistols. _

_ No matter how fast she moved, though, she found one of the metal bullets lodged in her shoulder. For once in her life, she cried out in pain and dropped her crossbow. One of the remaining guards walked up to her, and smirked as he brought a pistol to her head. The last thing Sparrow was sure of is that she could hear Reaver's voice. _

_ "Don't you dare touch her!"_

_ A gun was fired, and the spire guard fell dead at Sparrows feet. She looked up to Reaver, who was shooting the remaining guards down. Another wave was already being sent down, but he seemed to ignore them. He seemed more focused on… her? No, that couldn't be right… But it had to be, for the big-headed pirate was at her side in seconds. _

_ "Are you alright? Sparrow?"_


	6. Week One

**A/N: Well. It's been_ quite_ a while, hasn't it? **

**First off, I would like to say I'm very sorry for the massive delay in uploading this chapter. My own personal life decided to get in the way and I had everything from school projects/work/tests/school in general to computer hard-drives crashing to my own personal drama. Know one thing, however- I did not forget about this story, nor will I ever. I just... took a long break to get some aspects of my life in order. **

**I could ramble, but to be honest, I don't think any of you reading this would care to hear all that's been going on. XD **

**And I have one more message before I let you all get on with reading this insanely long chapter: While I was gone, I had a few moments when I thought back to this story, and- if you all remember, this entire fanfiction has been written out and edited- I decided to do a slight re-write at my own pace. I began to realize that a few things in here a too fast-paced or unexplained, so... I shall put the rest of the story up weekly, as I had planned before, and allow people to review it like it is now. Once all the chapters are put up, I will begin to do my re-write, and hopefully put up the new chapters at the same pace. **

**One again, I am incredibly sorry for the long delay. I can only hope that this god-awful long chapter- in comparison with the others- is enough to make it all up. Again, if you happen to spot any kind of errors or mistakes, it only takes a few moments to let me know so I can fix it.**

**Enjoy ^_^**

**~D/P**

**Chapter VI**

**Week One**

Sparrow managed to keep Reaver away from her for the rest of the night. She had stayed dead silent when he knocked on her door, and so did Joy. After about a minute, the sound of footsteps walking away from the door. Both girls let out a sigh of relief at the same time.

"Joy, I'm starting to wonder if you can predict the future as well as use will power," Sparrow muttered. The blonde simply grinned.

"I'd get some sleep. Tomorrow, you officially start… living. With Reaver. Oh, Avo, this should be fun to watch," Joy said, holding in her laugher.

Sparrow glared at her for a moment, then sighed.

"Okay, _Princess Ai_. Get out of here and let me sleep," Sparrow said.

"I think I shall. Have fun, _Blade_."

It was the first time since the Crucible that either of them had used their 'stage' names. Joy opened the wooden door and left Sparrow alone, who dropped back onto the bed. At that moment, she wondered how Mad-Dog was getting along. There wasn't time for her to really say hello to him. It wasn't that she missed the mindless slaughter, but… Mad-Dog had called her family. Having no family of her own, it made her feel like she belonged somewhere.

"I'll have to go back there tomorrow. I hope Reaver likes an empty manor."

By morning, Sparrow was on a ship out to Westcliff. Her dog Cora, who had gone off on one of her crazy 'adventures' again, returned just as Sparrow boarded the ship. She carried what looked like a dead beetle in her mouth, which Sparrow made her drop into the ocean.

"We don't want to scare anyone, now do we, Cora?" she asked her dog. Cora barked and wagged her tail in response. "Good girl."

It wasn't long before Sparrow set foot in Westcliff, and she was greeted by various bandits. It seemed wherever she went, she always had a few fanatics to follow her around. Bloodstone was the only exception, which was another reason she chose to live in the drunk-infested port town.

She made her way up the beach, with Cora trailing her every step, to the Crucible. Nothing had changed since she had left for the Spire. Though, there was a bit more dried blood on the steps the usual.

"Well, well, well. Looks like we've got us a new challenger. What's your name, sweetheart?"

Sparrow rolled her eyes.

"Mad-Dog, I swear, you're as blind as a bat now days," Sparrow said, running up the last few steps. "It's been years."

The ex-champion grinned, showing he was missing a few teeth. Despite that, and the smell of bandits, Sparrow hugged the old man.

"How long has it been, Blade? Five years? Ten?"

"Eleven, Mad-Dog," Sparrow said. "And I thought I told you my name's Sparrow. Blade's my stage name. So how's the old Crucible doing? Anyone beaten my record yet?"

"Nuh, not yet. You and that other girl… What was 'er name again? Princess Di?"

"You mean Joy, right?"

"Was that it? My memory must be going along with my eyes. So where is she anyway, Bla- I mean, Sparrow."

"Back at Bloodstone, I suppose."

"WRONG, SPARROW!"

The shrill voice made both Mad-Dog and Sparrow jump. Sparrow whipped around to see Joy racing up the steps of the Crucible. She wore her old hero outfit; the same one she wore when she fought in the Crucible. A Master Cleaver was latched to her back, as well. Déjà vu swept over Sparrow, and she felt like it was eleven years ago, before the Spire, before everything went horribly wrong. In other words, before she met the pirate Reaver.

Said pirate sat in his reclaimed study with a bottle of wine in one hand, and a leather-bound book in the other. It seemed Sparrow had a writing talent as well as he did, and she didn't keep her own journal hidden as he had done. In fact, he had found it by accident while looking to see if any of his books had been taken.

Now he sat reading every word of the journal with a smirk on his face. It was hard for him not to. After all, he happened to be reading about his favorite subject: himself.

_ June. Exact date unknown._

_ The annoying pirate's note still keeps me awake at night. I find it impossible to go a day without thinking about him. It doesn't help that I found his diary entries lying about. How dare he call me a cow? I have yet to read the last piece of paper, fearing more insults on my person. Reaver has affected my life enough, and it's time I forget him. _

_ Though, I won't forget the Spire. Lucian was chattering on and on and I at least wanted to hear what he had to say. Killing him would be as simple as forging a blade. And yet… The _pirate_ of all people had to end Lucian. And I was about to shoot an arrow into his head, too! My whole life was for that one moment, and he took it from me. I could say nothing at that time, but if I ever get a chance to speak my mind… I have a few choice words planned, and most of them will make him wonder how I got such a vocabulary. ___

Reaver laughed at that. He wondered when exactly he'd hear her little speech.

_ _Cora seems nervous. I think she has a right to be, especially after that banshee attacked Bloodstone. The bloody thing just wouldn't die, and she wiped out almost half of the people she saw. All the while, she spat out words that made my stomach churn. Everything was true, or so I had to think. One thing the creature said still puzzles me however: 'The Shadow Court were happy to meet you. Now they know the pirate's weakness, and they will kill you to get to him.'__

_ She couldn't have meant… Reaver. How could I be his weakness? Unless… No. He has no regard for life, and there is no way in hell he'd care if I lived or died. After all, he did try more than once to end my life himself. I wonder what would have happened if he had been successful… Lucian would have created a new world, and hurt Hammer, Garth, and… Reaver to do so. _

_ The images from the day at The Spire flood my mind. Just seeing Hammer and Garth in pain made me forget about avenging Rose for a moment._

Reaver scowled. Did he not matter to her?

_ _And… I hate to say such things, and I know this may sound strange, but seeing Reaver's face… Seeing the life-force sucked out of him… Seeing that made me want to unleash every possible will attack, every arrow I had, at Lucian. If I only had a gun, I would have emptied the bullets in an instant. Because of that damned pirate. Because of Reaver. I have yet to figure out why, and doubt I ever will. __

Reaver took a drink of wine. If Sparrow had been any different, any other girl… he would have laughed at her writing. Yet there was seriousness to what she wrote about him. Whatever she had felt up in The Spire had been quite a shock to her, and had plagued her mind for some time. He took another gulp of wine, and flipped the page.

_ _August. __

_ Another banshee attacked Bloodstone today. I'm still bleeding from the wounds she and her little shadow daughters gave me. The things she told me were the same, however. No matter how many times I hear how Hammer still blames me for her father's death, or that no afterlife wants me, I still can't help but feel sick to my stomach. And I do believe these banshee's are trying to tell me something. It disturbs me. _

_ Just as I was about to cut her head off, I swear she looked right at me. I still couldn't see a face, but I felt her eyes on me. She uttered these words: 'The Shadow Court were happy to meet you. Now they know the pirate's weakness, and they will kill you to get to him.' Again, I hear this. And I had almost forgot about the last one who said those exact same words. _

_ I always found that banshee's never seemed to repeat others. They just said different forms of the same thing. This one, however, repeated that… warning? word for word. _

_ I have to stop fighting those things. I'll go insane if I don't. _

Reaver took another drink of wine. He was starting to feel a bit drunk, but continued to read.

_ _January.__

_ The winter has been hard on this costal paradise. Water closer to the shore has frozen, and surprisingly damaged some of the ships. In an effort to help, I traveled to an unnamed place that I found once on my travels. A carpenter lives in the forest there with his son, though I don't see how it's possible. The forest is infested with every kind of balverine you could think of. I had to fight my way through about five hunting parties just to get to the cabin. My offer was simple: I'd pay him for what work he did if he helped repair the ships that had been damaged. As I had hoped, he agreed, and I escorted both him and his son back to Bloodstone. _

_ The trip was made difficult by the various bandits, and the cold. I thought the carpenter's son would freeze to death, and he was very well close to doing so. We got to Westcliff in time, however, and with about two weeks of rest and warm food, he lived. _

Reaver flipped through the journal, becoming a bit bored with Sparrow's writing. However, he was quite interested to read the latest passage.

_ _Reaver has returned. Huzzah. __

_ And I was just getting my life in order, too! Oh, how he annoys me so. He thinks he has the right to take back his house, which I bought from what staff he left behind. Well, at least he brought Joy with him. It's nice to see she hasn't changed much. Although, she has picked up quite a vocabulary since I last saw her, and she seems to be more… trigger-happy. _

_ I should make a note of who I also met. On my way back from a trip to Bowerstone, I met a friendly bandit- that sounds a bit odd, doesn't it- by the name of Logan. He traveled back to Bloodstone with me, and has seemed to taken a liking to me in the short time we've known each other. Maybe the kiss back in Westcliff was a bad idea after all. I know I'm prone to take chances, but this time I may have gone too far. I hope no gossips come to Bloodstone for some time. If Reaver found out… Well, Reaver being Reaver, he'd probably shoot the next man to say my name. He seems like the type to do that, though what am I to him anyway?_

The writing seemed to end there, but a small loose piece of paper stuck out from the next page. He pulled it out and read it.

_ Reaver, Reaver, Reaver. I cannot figure you out. For one thing, you come back to my home, acting like you want me dead. Then I end up alive after being hit in the head by Joy and you can't kill me even then. Care to help me out here? _

_ And why are you reading my journal anyway? Am I really that interesting, or are you just bored or something?_

_ -Sparrow :)_

Reaver cursed under his breath, mostly at the small face she had drawn next to her name. How did she know he'd read this of all things? Curse her and her brilliant mind.

He closed the book, and set it on the table. By now, he had finished most of the wine, and was very, very drunk. Drunk enough not to hear footsteps behind him.

"Having fun, Reaver?"

Sparrow walked over to the drunken pirate and pulled the wine bottle from his hand. Reaver looked a bit suspired to see her, but couldn't think of anything to say right at that moment.

"I must be pretty important to you if you read any of that book."

"Fair trade. You read about my life… I read about yours," Reaver mumbled, getting to his feet. "Remind me what you're doing here?"

Sparrow gave him an odd look.

"I live here, remember?" She looked at the wine bottle she had taken from him. "Did you drink all of this?"

Reaver nodded, and stumbled toward her.

"Avo… You're going to kill yourself if you drink too much, you know," Sparrow muttered.

"And… when did you care about me anyway?"

"You helped me get revenge for my sister; you haven't killed me yet… I don't hate you, Reaver. You just annoy me. Plus, I guess I feel… almost slightly bad about what happened to you."

"What are you… talkin' about?"

"'I am not he... I am Reaver. And I will sleep much better after this chalice of wine,'" she muttered. "Sound familiar?"

Reaver stared at her as she finished off the wine left in the bottle, unable to say anything.

"Okay, bed time for the drunks. I'd rather not have to deal with a pirate with a bad hangover tomorrow."

Sparrow set the wine bottle down on the table and took Reaver's hand. He still stared at her, but allowed her to escort him up the stairs and into his room. By the time she was ready to leave, however, he had regained enough of his senses to keep a strong hold on her wrist.

"Reaver, let go of me. Come on, I need to go find Cora."

He looked into her ocean-blue eyes, saying nothing at all. It didn't occur to him that his grip on her wrist had loosened, yet she was still standing in front of him. It also didn't occur to him that he was slowly leaning in toward her, and she seemed to be doing the same thing.

Before anything could happen, though, Sparrow backed away, said goodnight, and vanished, leaving Reaver dazed and confused.

* * *

><p>Sparrow left the manor, scouring the emptying streets for Cora. The sun was setting, and she was preparing herself for a night search, but as if from nowhere, Cora ran up to her, barking happily. A familiar bandit followed her.<p>

"Logan."

"Sparrow."

"I'm surprised you're still here. After all, you did seem a bit angry to find myself and Reaver dancing."

"Joy convinced me to stay. And… I guess I'm more attached to you than I thought."

As if on cue, the blonde came racing down the street.

"Hey, Sparrow, I wanted to tell you-" she came to a halt, and gave both hero and bandit nervous looks. "Am I interrupting something here?"

"No, Joy. But I'd best be going. I have a drunken pirate to take care of."

Sparrow walked back toward the manor with Cora at her heels. Joy looked at Logan, and frowned.

"What did you do to her? The last person she gave that kind of look was Reaver."

Logan turned to Joy, fuming.

"I didn't do anything! She just is over-reacting to what I did at some party! She is the one who did something to me!"

Joy blinked.

"And you, you ignorant bandit, need to take a chill-pill!" she shouted back at him in the same tone, only about ten times louder. Logan stood frozen in shock and could only watch Joy stomp off, muttering strange words to herself. The only question Logan could come up with at the time was simple. What in Albion's name was a chill-pill?

That night, Sparrow got very little sleep. It wasn't because of Logan or Joy… It was because of Reaver. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she had stayed with him for even a few more seconds. Sure, he had been drunk, but she had seen something else in his green eyes… What was it?

She rolled onto her side and stared at the wall of her room. Snoring could be heard from the other, which made Sparrow grin slightly, but for only a moment. The reality of living with Reaver was sinking into her mind, and she wondered what kind of mistake she had made. Knowing the pirate, she would either live with him until the day she died, or she would be forced to leave her own home, heartbroken. Both choices appalled her.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Sparrow woke as soon as the sun was up. She changed out of her nightgown into a well-worn shirt and pants. She opened her door and walked down stairs to find the manor completely silent. Figuring Reaver was still sleeping off an oncoming hangover, Sparrow took the chance to go down to the tavern to talk to Joy.<p>

Outside, the rising sun painted the sky a deep red color.

"'Red sky in morning, sailors warning.'" Sparrow recited as she walked through the silent streets of Bloodstone. Fog surrounded the coast, but there were no banshees to fight this time. Sparrow was thankful for that.

She opened the door to the tavern and stepped inside. Finding Joy was simple; she was sitting at one of the tables listening to some old sailor ramble on. Sparrow listened in on the conversation until Joy saw her.

"Oh, hey Sparrow! Come meet Jack. He says he's seen the ghost of Captain Dread himself!"

Sparrow took a seat at the table.

"Is that so? Where did you see him?"

Jack rattled off his story, asking Joy once for another drink, which she bought in an instant for him. The ghost was supposed to be in a cave just off the coast of Bloodstone. That was all Sparrow needed to know, for she had wanted to go on a quest for some time. Just before she spoke, Jack mentioned some kind of treasure.

"Well, I might as well go take a look. Might get to fight something new for once," Sparrow told Jack as she stood up. She noticed Joy smirking at her, and she raised an eye brow.

"Why don't you take Reaver with you? After all, you both are heroes… Could be fun!"

Sparrow sighed. Dragging Reaver along was the last thing she wanted to do.

"No, Joy. My drunken-pirate limit is at zero, and I'd like to keep it there."

Joy's face went from excited to disappointed within seconds.

"But… what if he throws some wild party while you're gone?"

"He didn't when we went to Westcliff to see Mad-Dog, did he?"

Joy shrugged and rested her head in hands. She looked more like a disappointed child than a hero.

"Oh… Fine! I'll drag the pirate along. Just promise me one thing," Sparrow said, reluctantly. Some fun quest this was going to be. "Find your own quest, and keep Logan busy. Or at least do something to cheer him up."

Joy stood up instantly and hugged Sparrow. Both Sparrow and Jack exchanged awkward looks.

"Sure thing! This'll be fun, right?"

"Yeah… fun," Sparrow muttered as Joy let go of her. She turned to Jack. "I'll be back once I find Dread or nothing at all."

Sparrow left the tavern after buying a beer bottle from the bar tender, and Joy went off to find Logan. Knowing her blonde friend, Sparrow knew she was going to get into big trouble. She just hoped she wasn't the one to bail her out this time.

Back at the manor, Sparrow sat in the study waiting for Reaver to wake. She took a drink from the brown bottle of beer in her hand, and watched her dog pace around the room. Sparrow found Cora quite a odd dog. She'd be at her feet one minute, then gone chasing after something.

Cora stopped and looked toward the doorway just as Reaver walked up. Sparrow put down her beer bottle and stood up. He looked like he had gotten five minutes of sleep last night.

"Morning, princess," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sleep well?"

Reaver only nodded.

"Well, I hope you don't have a nasty hangover, because we have a bit of a quest today."

"Oh, goody… Just what I wished for," Reaver muttered.

"I haven't even told you what it was, Reaver."

"And I'm assuming you will?"

"Captain Dread. We're going to find his ghost, and his treasure," Sparrow told him. "Sound fun?"

"If you like getting killed, sure, it sounds like lots of fun…" he muttered back, rubbing his head, "But for me, I'd rather stay alive for a bit longer. I'll stick to parties and drinking and what-not."

Sparrow walked over to him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"Look, I don't care what kind of hangover or headache you've got. You're coming with me on this quest, or I'll tell Joy you refused."

"I'm terrified," Reaver mumbled sarcastically.

"Last time she got angry, she took down a balverine with one swing of her cleaver, and cut down a tree in the process," Sparrow lied. "She's a hero, and I don't think you'd want to face her wrath."

Reaver sighed and took Sparrow's wrist.

"Fine, fine. I'll go… Just let me wake up first."

Sparrow let go of his shirt, and he let go of her.

Ten minutes past, and Reaver wasn't ready. Sparrow stood by the door, her own cleaver and cross-bow secured to her back. A brown sack of food, drink, and potions lay at her feet. She had sent Cora off with Joy, who stopped by to say farewell. The dog was happy to go, and Sparrow was happy to send her. Sure, she was a good dog, but most of the time, she ended up getting hurt and tripping up Sparrow when she tried to fight.

"We don't have all day, Reaver!" Sparrow called up. No reply came, and she sighed. Typical Reaver. He was probably fixing his hair. "And they say ladies take long to get ready," she muttered.

Sparrow waited another minute before she had enough of waiting around. She walked up the stairs and knocked on the door of Reaver's room.

"Come in, Sparrow."

She opened the door and stared at the back of a shirtless Reaver. She silently thanked Avo he at least had pants on.

"Time to go, unless you want to fight ghosts in the dark," she told him, staring at the wall.

"Yes, yes. I'm getting ready… My, isn't your face red today."

Sparrow's blush deepened, and she heard Reaver laugh.

"My dear, you can look. I'm dressed."

Sparrow looked back at Reaver, and sighed. Of all the people in the world she had to go on a quest with…

Reaver strode to one of the sets of drawers and opened one of them, pulling out what Sparrow recognized as the Dragonstomper .48. He slipped it into the holster at his side, and turned to Sparrow.

"Alright, let's get on with this little quest of yours. We don't have all day."

Stupid? No. Ignorant? Hell yes. Sparrow sighed and walked back down stairs with Reaver following her. She opened the door to the manor, picking up the bag she had prepared.

Joy, wherever you are, I hope you're having fun… Sparrow thought bitterly.

Joy was indeed having fun. She had convinced Logan to take her all the way to Bowerstone. He agreed, and the first half trip there was extremely easy. Being a hero, Joy had figured out how to use the Old Kingdom gaits scattered across Albion. The pair hiked through Wraithmarsh to the only gait she knew in the area. The only problem was, it took them not to Bowerstone, but to the Spire-guard infested Brightwood tower.

The second part of their trip was fighting their way past the guards, and then fighting their way past bandits. After they reached Hero Hill, Logan looked as if he was going to pass out. Joy, on the other hand, was still full of energy.

"Okay, I give up… Can we just… rest for a second?" Logan pleaded. Joy turned to him and frowned.

"Bowerstone's just a mile away, and you want to take a break?" she asked. Logan nodded. "Ugh. Men," she muttered. "Fine, we can rest for a minute or two."

"Thank the gods," Logan whispered, sitting down on the soft grass. Joy reluctantly sat down as well, undoing the ribbon that held her hair back. Blonde hair fell down around her face. She removed her cleaver from her back, sat it on her lap, and took a stone from her pocket. With the stone, she began sharpening the cleaver. Logan watched with great interest. She seemed to have the same strength as Sparrow.

"How can you wield something so heavy?" he asked her.

Joy continued to work, not looking up at him.

"I just… can. Heroes are just stronger than most normal humans. Though, there are exceptions. Say, someone who trained hard enough could lift this without a problem."

"And you didn't have to train?"

"No. One minute, I was a frail daughter of a noble, then next I was wielding this cleaver and knocking heads."

Both grew silent, and the only sound was stone on metal. When Joy finished, she replaced the cleaver on her back and the stone in her pocket. Her eyes closed and she leaned back on her hands, wondering what Sparrow was up to.

* * *

><p>Joy figured she was probably having fun fighting ghosts by now. She opened her eyes and stretched, letting herself fall back onto the grass. The sun was starting to go down, but that didn't bother her. Lamps were lit along the road, so they wouldn't get lost.<p>

"Shall we go?"

Joy sat up and looked at Logan, who had gotten to his feet. She nodded and stood up, ignoring his outstretched hand. When would he understand that a girl who can cut a balverine into pieces can stand on her own?

"This way," she said, walking toward the wooden gaits in the distance. Logan followed her, and in about an hour, they were in Bowerstone. Little did Logan know that Joy had come here not for the possible chance of bounty hunting, but for some real fun: shopping.

"And I'm saying, I saved you plenty more times than you saved me! You can't even fight with a sword!"

"Well, neither can you."

"At least I can lift a cleaver! If you tried that, your spine might snap!"

"Are you calling me a lightweight?"

"So what if I am?"

"Well, you can't even touch a gun, so we're even!"

"Yeah, but I have a decent reason for that! Just because you prefer guns over swords doesn't mean you shouldn't be good at using one!"

"I could say the same about you and guns."

"Look, I was scared for life because of what happened to Rose, and I swore I'd never use a gun again because it's how she was killed, and how I was almost was killed as well!"

"Why do you keep yourself in the past? Can't you forget about even one thing?"

"NO! My sister was killed! And don't act like you're haunted by those dreams of yours! Unless you were lying when you wrote all that down, I'd say both of us are stuck in the past with no way out!"

"My dear, I am Reaver! And no matter how those dreams haunt me, as you say, I don't complain about them!"

"Oh, you are impossible."

"That I'll agree to, my dear."

"Why did I make the promise to Joy…"

Sparrow sighed and gave up on the arguing and joined Reaver, who stared down a very deep, very dark hole. There were no more paths, and it seemed they had jump to continue this quest.

"And this, my dear, is where I draw the line," Reaver said, backing away from the hole.

"Scared of a little jump?" Sparrow said, looking up at him. '"It's not so bad."

"I disagree. And what if there's just rock down there? We'd both be killed if we jumped," Reaver retorted.

"There happens to be water down there. I checked. So what if we get a little wet?"

"I'd explain it to you, but you'd only laugh, I'm sure."

Sparrow knew very well why Reaver refused to jump down into the hole. His looks were more important than the quest to him. So she crossed her arms and simply stared at him.

"Fine, already. Just stop looking at me like that," Reaver muttered.

Sparrow turned back toward the hole, and looked down it once more. Reaver did the same.

"Ladies first," he said, grinning at her. Sparrow glared at him, but didn't protest. She took about ten steps away from the hole, and turned back to face it. She took a running start, and dove head-first into the dark hole. Reaver waited for the sound of a splash, and about ten seconds after her dive he heard her hit the water.

"Come on down! There's nothing but water down here!" she called.

Reaver took a deep breath and jumped into the blackness, landing in freezing cold water. He broke the surface gasping for breath, seeing the faint outline of Sparrow, who had already found land. He swam toward her and climbed up onto the rocky ground.

Even in the dark, he could see she was dripping wet and shivering. Her clothes stuck to her skin.

"C-can't you m-make fire?" Reaver asked.

"I'm not a master of will. I only know a few simple spells, and I doubt I could reach Theresa down here."

"W-well… It wouldn't h-hurt to try, w-would it?"

Sparrow shook her head, and closed her eyes.

"Theresa?" she whispered. "Can you hear me?"

The image of the blind woman appeared in her mind, and Sparrow smiled.

"I need to learn another spell," Sparrow told her, not realizing she spoke out loud so Reaver could hear her.

"In due time, little Sparrow. But first, there is something you must know. It concerns both you and Reaver, whom I see is traveling with you again."

"What is it?"

"I assume you have already been warned by banshees, but I must tell you myself. The Shadow Court, even as we speak, is gathering strength for only one purpose: to seek you out and kill you."

"What…? Why would they want me dead?"

"They believe you are the one person Reaver cares for, and the one person that, without, will finally break him."

"They're using me? Why?"

"Because even though you may refuse to believe it, some part of Reaver cares for you. They know it just as well as I do."

"So it wasn't a coincidence that he came back…"

"Fate had a hand in his return, yes, but it did not choose when he would return. The Shadow Court consider themselves lucky he returned while you were still young and alive."

"What should I do?"

"Only wait and prepare. Even I do not know what power The Shadow Court possess. You must also keep the knowledge you now have a secret. Tell no one, not even Reaver. I will contact him when it is his time to learn this. You may have your spell, little Sparrow. Good luck."

The image of Theresa vanished from Sparrow's mind, and her eyes opened to meet Reaver's stare.

"Care to tell me why someone wants you dead?" he asked. Sparrow only shook her head, and lit a small fire in the palm of her hand.

The fire lit up only the space between the two, and the silence made it both awkward and almost… romantic at the same time.

"Shall we get going?" Sparrow asked. "We haven't got all of eternity… At least, I don't."

Reaver could have sworn she smiled when she said that, but she stood up too quickly for him to see her face.

"Right… On with this quest…"

"Joy, are we done yet?" Logan grumbled. He should have known better than to take her to Bowerstone… She had been looking over what weapons were for sale in the blacksmiths for about an hour now. It was well past closing time, too.

"So your saying that if I buy this cleaver… I can upgrade it with augments?"

"Yep. And it's on sale, too!"

"Okay. I'll take it!"

Joy paid the blacksmith and took her new cleaver off of the wall where it was hanging. Logan sighed in relief that they could finally get some sleep.

"Oh, one more thing before I go…"

Logan groaned quietly and grabbed Joy's hand.

"How about we come back tomorrow, Joy… I need to get some sleep, and you're the one with the gold here."

"Oh, right…" Joy mumbled. She walked away from the blacksmiths with Logan following behind. As she walked, she replaced her old cleaver with the new one on her back. Logan wondered if she was going to ask carry it for her, which she did.

He reluctantly took the handle of the cleaver, expecting his arm to give out and drop it, but the weapon was surprisingly light. The weight was similar to a small pistol, so he had no trouble carrying it on his back like Joy did with her own new weapon.

"I think we're lost. Wait, no. I know we're lost."

Sparrow stopped walking and turned around to Reaver. This was the fifth dead end in about an hour, and both heroes were starting to get tried.

"Now why did I have a feeling this would end in disaster?" Reaver asked her. Sparrow sighed and leaned against the wall.

"How should I know… Now we're stuck down here for the night."

She slumped down to the hard ground. It was one thing to be soaking wet, but to be soaking wet, cold, and lost? She couldn't take much more of this. At least there were old hunks of wood on the walls she could use to start a fire with. Though, if she pulled one down, the whole cave could collapse. Sparrow sometimes wanted to scream every curse word she knew at whatever fate made her become a hero and go on theses quests.

Reaver sat down beside her. In any other situation, Sparrow would have moved away from him, but being stuck in a dark hole with no way out made her care less.

"I guess we're spending the night here…" she muttered. Reaver nodded in agreement.

"Care to light another fire?"

Without a word, Sparrow conjured a small flame in her hand. Reaver could now see her face, and she had a look of… hopelessness on her face? That couldn't be right. Sparrow never gave up. She was just tired, that was all. And cold. And wet. They both were.

As the minutes ticked by, Sparrow felt her eyelids grow heavy. She struggled to stay awake and keep the fire in her hand going. The temptation to fall asleep was growing, however. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stay awake. She glanced at Reaver, who seemed to be as awake as ever.

In the end, fatigue won the battle and Sparrow closed her eyes. She let her head rest against Reaver's shoulder just as the fire went out. If he had said anything, she didn't hear it, for she was asleep within seconds.

Reaver stared down at Sparrow through the dark. Having her so close to him, and by apparent choice, made his heart begin to race. Why did she always have such an effect on him? There was only one other who made him feel different… and she was dead and gone.

Staring down at her, he could see a fading scar over one of her eyes. Now when did that happen? He had never seen a single scratch on her face, even when they battled Spire guards. Sparrow always knew how to kill them, and only once was she hit with a bullet during the fight on the secret beach.

However she had gotten the scar, it looked like it had hurt for some time. The faint line started at the top of her head and went down to her cheek.

Reaver also began to notice how pale her skin was. It occurred to him that he had never gotten a chance to study her this closely, and if he had tried any time before this, she probably would have smacked him across the face. He smirked at the thought of her trying something like that.

A few hours must have passed before Sparrow woke again. She opened her eyes to see only darkness, but she could feel her surroundings… which were very warm and very alive.

Sparrow froze and strained her eyes to look at the pirate next to her. She must have fallen asleep and used him for a pillow.

Wonder what he thought about that? Sparrow asked herself.

Quietly, she lit a small flame in her hand. In the glow of her fire, she could see that Reaver was asleep. She thanked Avo for it. Explaining how or why she ended up like this would end up in Reaver making a joke about finding him irresistible, or something like that.

Slowly, she sat up and moved away from the pirate in an effort not to wake him. Once she was far away enough, she rose to her feet and brightened her flame. Stone walls surrounded them on three sides, and a tunnel led into blackness.

Sparrow knew they were going to be down here for quite a while. She just hoped this trip wasn't for nothing.

* * *

><p>Outside of Bowerstone, the clock tower chimed in the morning. Joy was already awake and outside, standing on the bridge and looking over the water. Sleeping at the inn had been pleasant, but she missed the outdoors. Logan seemed content with sleeping like a rock, however.<p>

Stall vendors were beginning to open up shop, and Joy watched as one man struggled with a heavy crate. She shrugged and walked over to help him. Being a hero didn't mean she could only fight monsters and bandits, right?

"Need some help?" Joy asked. The man looked surprised, but didn't refuse her help. Joy took the crate and carried it without any trouble. Apparently, the people of Bowerstone weren't used to seeing a girl carry such heavy things. Anyone who saw her stopped and stared.

Joy set the crate down next to the man's stall, and dusted off her shirt.

"Thanks fer that, miss. Didn't know if I could carry that all by meself."

Joy smiled.

"Well, being a hero has its perks, and we aren't just for fighting off balverines, you know."

"Ah, a hero-miss. There aren't much of your kind 'round now days, I take it."

"No… There's only five of us that I know of, including myself. I'm sure you know of Sparrow, though. She grew up in the gypsy camp around here, and she owns quite a bit of land here. Or so I'm told."

The man nodded.

"A'yup. Owns my little stand, in fact. She's pretty generous with the rent 'in all, though. Most of the gold I can keep for meself and the fact that she owns this place means more people shop here. So she gets a bit 'o gold, the people get what 'ey want, and I get a lot of business. Works out fer everyone 'n the end."

Joy nodded and sighed.

"And I see 'er dog followed you here."

Joy looked down to see Cora staring up at her, tail wagging.

"Yep. Sparrow let me borrow her for this trip. She's quite the dog."

"Is it true she ripped the head off o' a hallow-man once?"

"I wasn't there when that happened, but I'm sure she did."

Cora barked as if approving what Joy said.

"Cora, why don't you go wake up Logan? That bandit's had enough sleep for one day," Joy told the dog. Cora barked once and raced off toward the inn. She turned back to the stall vendor.

"So how much for the wine?"

Joy walked away from the stall with a bottle of expensive wine in her hand. It was the kind of wine her parents had bought, and she could remember what she had said when she had first tried it: One could detect hints of honey, fresh apples, and marmoset with ones nose if one was a pompous ass. Her comment had appalled her parents, and that was the end of the wine for her.

Outside the Cow in Corset, Cora was pacing back and forth. Logan stood with his back to the wall, watching her. The instant Cora saw Joy, she raced over to Joy and barked happily.

"Good girl," Joy said, petting the dog.

"That good girl of your woke me up," Logan muttered.

"She was only doing what I told her to do," Joy told him, grinning.

Logan only sighed and muttered something to himself.

"Well excuse me for wanting to get a good start on the day. We have some bounty hunting to do, if you have already forgotten."

Joy almost had to drag the bandit to Old Town where most of the jobs were. Most of them were simple: some poor sap had giant beetles in his cellar or his house. Only when Logan and Joy finished all of those simple tasks did one of the guards have quite an interesting job for them to do.

"Civilian displacement camp out by Bower Lake? Sure we'll take care of it," Joy told the guard as she read over the scroll he handed her.

"Good. They seem to have captured some of our own, and a couple of nobles from outside Albion. The reward would be one thousand gold, but due to the circumstances, it's been raised to ten thousand."

"Nobles…" Joy muttered. "Always worth more than the common people."

"Well, get to it. They could be gone soon."

"Yeah, yeah. We're on it," Joy told the guard as she walked away, still looking at the scroll. It gave only the number of people and the location. No names were mentioned.

* * *

><p>"Eat poison."<p>

Sparrow fired an arrow at one of the green ghosts, and sliced another in half with her cleaver. Finding the haunted ship was a fairly simple task after Reaver had woken up, and they both found themselves thrown into quite in interesting fight.

"Wonder when they'll stay dead," she muttered as she fired another arrow at one of the ghosts. Her eyes traveled to where Reaver stood. The idiot was still shooting instead of using his cutlass. He was a bit too focused to see one of the undead walk up behind him, and before Sparrow could fire an arrow, the ghost slashed at Reaver's back with a rusty-looking sword. It went to attack again, but a poison arrow had already struck it. The ghost vanished.

Sparrow raced to aid Reaver, but he was stubborn and insisted he was fine. The two ended up back to back, shooting and cutting away the growing number of undead.

"Captain Dread, you coward! Get out here and face us!" Sparrow shouted as she cut through the oncoming ghosts. In an instant, the rest vanished and the doors to the captain's quarters flew open. Captain Dread stepped out, and Sparrow had a hard time holding back laughter. Sure, the pirate had been utterly terrifying, but he looked like a ghost of a hollow-man that had his head set on fire.

The dead pirate rambled on about his ship for a while, telling Sparrow how no one would get their hands on it. After his speech, she simply yawned. Reaver stared at her as if she was crazy. Being a pirate, he knew very well what the dead captain was capable of. Even Reaver knew he was no match for the ghost.

"Okay, let's get on with it," Sparrow muttered, twirling her cleaver as if it was wooden stick. "I haven't got all day."

The living heroes and the ghost captain began their battle, and Sparrow showed no fear whatsoever. In fact, she raced at Captain Dread as fast as she could, and brought her cleaver down on is cutlass. A metallic clang filled the air as the two faced off. At one point, Reaver was sure she had used her will power to slow time down. She zipped around at an inhuman speed, hitting the ghost every chance she got. When she slowed down, she appeared at Reaver's side.

"You going to help out or just watch me as if we were at the Crucible?" she asked him.

"Right."

Reaver loaded his Dragonstomper .48 and began firing at the ghost. Every bullet hit, but didn't faze the captain. Sparrow, still standing next to him, pulled out her own cross bow and shot her poison arrows at the approaching ghost. After about five shorts, Sparrow laid her cross bow down. A bright light began to form on her hands, and it grew until it almost blinded both her and Reaver. She pushed it into the ground and, almost at the same time, grabbed Reaver's shoulder.

"What the-?"

Time had slowed down to the point where the ghost Captain looked like a statue.

"Slow time," Sparrow told him. "My favorite spell."

"And you could do this all along?" Reaver asked, looking at her. She nodded. "Why didn't you before?"

"For reasons that would take hours to explain, Reaver. Now shoot before I lose power."

He did as she said, and fired at the ghost. Sparrow kept her hand on Reaver's shoulder, but picked up her cross bow again and fired her remaining arrows. With every hit the ghost took, he slowed and finally seemed to be stumbling backward.

"Nice, isn't it? To be stuck in a slowed world," Sparrow muttered quietly.

"I still don't see why you didn't use this spell of yours before, Sparrow dear."

"Again, it would take too much time to explain." She fired another arrow. "And stop calling me that."

"Calling you what, Sparrow dear?"

"That. I answer only to Sparrow, and noting needs to be added to the end of it to get my attention."

"Very well. Sparrow."

Time caught up with them, and Sparrow let go of Reaver. She drew her cleaver, and walked calmly over to the now-fallen Captain Dread.

The ghost looked up at her with some form of fear.

"What are you?" he asked her in between swallowed breaths.

"A hero with a job to do."

With those words, Sparrow brought her cleaver down one last time. The ghost of Captain Dread vanished into thin air.

"Goodbye and good riddance," she muttered.

* * *

><p>As the sun climbed in the sky, Joy and Logan set off to the displacement camp, armed more like soldiers rather than bounty-hunters. Joy had a rifle strapped to her back, over her new cleaver. A small knife was strapped to her left boot, and a pistol was strapped to her right. That, along with fact most of her weapons were stained with, even the guns, made Logan shudder. He had only his sword, having left the rest of his weapons, including Joy's old cleaver she refused to give up, at the inn.<p>

Finding the camp was as easy as finding a sleeping troll, but Joy eventually spotted the bandits and their human cages. Joy

Joy laid down on the cliff and looked through the glass scope attached to the top of her rifle. She seemed to be focusing, and just as Logan was getting used to the silence, she fired.

The bullet hit one of the bandits, who fell over without a sound. None of the others seemed to notice, so Joy repeated the process twice more. When the third bandit collapsed, the rest took notice. Joy sprang to her feet and drew her cleaver. Logan drew his own cutlass-style sword, and was prepared to race down the path to where the bandits were. Joy had a faster way to the fight.

She leapt over the cliff side, crashing into a group of the bandits. She rolled on the ground for a moment, and stood. Logan followed her example, and was lucky enough to land on his feet.

"Look, boys. We got a volunteer. Grab 'er."

The first bandit to approach Joy lived for two more seconds before his head rolled from his body.

"Why you little bi-"

"Behind you!"

Joy turned around to find one of the bandits towering over her, a dagger in his hand.

"Scum," Joy muttered before dropping and rolling out of the way. The bandit ended up plunging the dagger into one of his fellow bandits, who screamed and cursed loudly before falling to the ground. "Logan, find the key! Hurry!"

Logan did as he was told and was ignored by the bandits. They all had turned to Joy, who was getting to her feet and dusting herself off. She looked at the group that was closing in on her.

"Let's dance," she whispered.

Joy removed the pistol from its holster on her boot and took a shot at the closest bandit. The impact of her weapon, which was covered in gems Logan guessed to be the augments she talked about with the blacksmith the previous day, killed him instantly. Blood splattered her clothes, but she ignored it. Her attention turned to the next bandit, who ran at her. He met the end of her pistol, and blood flew again. Two down, three to go.

By now, the remaining bandits had worried looks on their faces, but the continued to advance on Joy. Joy switched from her pistol to her knife, and braced herself for the next attack. When one of the bandits attempted to surprise her, instead of killing him, she caught him so she was behind him, with one hand around his waist and her other holding the blade of her knife to his neck.

"You don't have to die. Go and leave the key for us to free the people you have captured, and I will not follow you. You will never see me again, but you will remember me," she whispered. The bandit, who looked utterly terrified, agreed as quickly as he could. Joy let go of him and lowered her blade, allowing the bandit to run back to his two friends. All seemed to want to live rather than die fighting, so they ran off, dropping the key as they did.

Logan picked it up from the grass and brushed the dirt off of it. Joy strode over and he gave her the key. As she walked to the cage, most of the people cheered for the hero. Only the two nobles stayed silent.

Joy unlocked the cage, and opened the door, letting the captives out. The gypsies and villagers came out first, followed by the nobles. Joy kept her head down, not looking at their faces. She was busy relocking the cage and snapping the key in half. Sparrow had taught her the trick so no wandering bandits could use the cage again. When she looked up, however, her eyes widened and she stared at the two people she had hoped would stay out of her life: Her parents.

The rest of the people thanked her, but her parents stayed silent. It seemed they didn't recognize her at all. After the rest of the captives started the long walk home, Joy approached the two. If they weren't going to recognize her, she was going to give them hell until they did.

"So, I risk my life setting you two free, and I don't even get a murmur of a thank you?" she snapped at them. "How shallow are you nobles anyway?"

Her mother spoke first. How was it they didn't even recognize their own daughters voice?

"Understand this, ruffian girl. If you hadn't come along, a much nicer, more civil guard would have taken care of things. You just massacred some of those evil, bad, men and let the others go free!"

"The guard you speak of would have been slaughtered the second those bandits, as their more commonly called, saw him! And you, my lady, would have been sent to work as a low-life maid to some dirty scum, and your husband here would be sent off to work in a meat pie factory! He may have even ended up as a meat pie if I hadn't gotten here in time!"

"How dare you! You don't even know us and you dare make such claims! What kind of rat are you, you filthy peasant! I can't even stand to look at you! You could have at least gotten rid of those blood stains before addressing the likes of us!"

Joy was thrown in a rage, and not even Logan dared to try to calm her down.

"HOW DARE I? HOW DARE I? I save your sorry asses, and you don't even have the damn decency to thank me! You nobles drive me insane! You're all just a bunch of stuck up, brown-nosing, rich brats that haven't said a kind thing to anyone in their whole damn life because their taught that anyone else that isn't in the same damn class as them are filthy low-lives without a soul! So you just act like you can walk all over us and not even give a thought to how we feel about it! So what if I'm covered in blood! I just saved you damn lives, and you expect me to look nice when you thank me! How dare YOU! I should have locked you both away in that cage and let you rot, you no-good rich filth! You don't even deserve to be saved! You're lower than SHIT!"

Joy stopped and was breathing heavily. Her eyes glowed with fire as she stared at her parents, who both looked horrified. It took her a moment to realize that, somehow, her will had returned and fire was glowing brightly in her hands. Not bothering to put out the flames, Joy threw the final insult.

"How low can you be to the point where you don't even recognize your own daughter," she said. "If you have forgotten, allow me to remind you. My name is Joy, remember? Now that you know… Piss. Off."

Both of Joy's parents were stunned into silence. Neither one could say or do anything to stop her from stomping off. Even Logan didn't know what to say to her. He could only leave the nobles behind and follow the very angry blonde all the way back to Bowerstone.

Joy was silent except when she received the gold the guard gave her. She uttered a quiet 'thank you', then returned to the Cow in Corset where Cora was waiting. The dog seemed to know something was wrong, so she stayed quiet and didn't greet Joy like she normally would.

Logan watched the hero take a seat and order the strongest kind of beer they had to offer. She gulped it down the instant she got it, but seemed to remain sober despite the strong alcohol. After watching her for about a minute or so, Logan joined her at the table.

"Why must they ruin every part of my life that's half-way decent?" she muttered.

"I'm sure they can't be that bad… Can they?"

Joy told Logan about how she competed at the Crucible, and how her parents basically chanted for her own death until they found out who she really was. She also told him how she protected their house back in her own country from bandits, and her parents dubbed her a danger and kept her under house-arrest for at least five months. They had also forbid her from any weapons, and the use of her will was forbidden for so long she had lost it until now.

Joy sat at the table until the sun went down over the horizon, and during that time, Logan listened to her talk about her parents. Just as the bar part of the tavern was closing up, two people walked in, both looking for the blonde hero.

Joy looked up at her parents and glared.

"What the hell do you want?" she snapped, standing up. "You've done quite enough already, so why don't you just go home?"

Joy's father took his turn to speak.

"We are not leaving until you give up this- this hero nonsense and go back to behaving like the little Josephine I know! Now come here this instant!"

"Why can't you even see that I loathe that name? And no! I won't go home with you. I will not give up being a hero. It's the best thing I could do with my life, and you wanted me to sit and watch people be slaughtered for fun!"

"Josephine… I'm going to count to three…"

Joy was appalled at the way her father treated her. She was twenty-five, not five.

"This is childish. Just give up and let me go already. You already control enough lives, so why is mine so damn important to you? I could have died in the Crucible, and you wouldn't have cared until you knew who I was. May I remind you that you called me a filthy peasant just hours before?"

Joy's mother spoke up.

"That's what you act like, Josephine! You've lived in this dump of a country for too long. Now come here and we'll take you home."

"Albion is worth more than you can imagine to me! My best friends are here, and so is my life! You can't take that away from me like some toy. This is my life. I'll do what I like."

At that moment, her mother opened her mouth and made the worst mistake possible.

"You don't control your own life! We are the reason you are here, and you will do as we say! Now come here!"

This time, Logan was the one to object. He stood up and stepped in front of Joy as if he was trying to protect her.

"I don't know what kind of sick game you two play, but Joy is not one to be owned. Get a dog if you're so desperate to control someone! She's made her choice, and you have no business interfering with her life any longer. She's old enough to make her own life, and she'll do what she likes! She's better off here than in where ever you are from anyway! She famous as a hero, and she does good in this world. Now why don't you just accept that and leave her alone!"

Joy's parents argued with Logan for some time, then left in a hurry when joy threatened to use her will on them. Joy calmed herself once they left, and left the tavern with Logan following behind her. She stopped at the bridge and stared down at the reflection of the moon in the water.

"Why did you fight for me back there?" she whispered. "What am I to you?"

"I didn't do it for you, Joy. Those parents of yours were getting on my nerves, and I figured it was time someone other than you told them off."

Joy smiled slightly, and continued to gaze out at the water.

* * *

><p>"I… think I'm gonna be sick…" Sparrow mumbled from the deck of the ship. Reaver looked past the wheel down to where she sat, and chuckled. It was obvious she didn't care much for the open ocean… so why would she want to live in Bloodstone.<p>

"My dear, how can you be sick when it's such a nice day outside?"

"I have a few ideas…" Sparrow muttered back. "Maybe traveling with you has finally gotten to me."

Reaver frowned, but didn't let her words bother him for too long. It was a nice day out, and the ship they had found seemed to be steering itself.

"I'm gonna… go lay down…" Sparrow told him as she stood up. She pushed the doors to the captain's quarters open and disappeared into the ship, leaving Reaver alone to stare out at the sea. It was very unusual for a ship as big as this to be silent… At least he didn't have to shout out orders every few minutes. And he didn't have to worry about a crew trying to mess around with Sparrow.

Reaver shook his head. What was wrong with him? He cared nothing for Sparrow. She was just a pawn in a game for his manor. How could he forget that fact so quickly?

Below deck, Sparrow found herself in what looked to be the main bed chamber, but it looked… almost like the room of a female rather than a male. Who had the ghost captain kept down here?

Sparrow opened one of the many closets to find a pile of clothes… dresses to be exact. The first one Sparrow pulled out had a few bullet holes in it, and she could only wonder where those had come from.

If Reaver and I are going to play a game of who falls for whom first… Who says I can't help myself win? Sparrow thought, grinning to herself. She balled up the dress in her hands and tossed it onto the bed. As long as she had a few new outfits lying around in the ship, she figured she may as well use them.

The next one Sparrow pulled from the pile was black, and looked as if it had been cut short with a dull blade. She tossed it with the first and pulled out another. The third and four were both blood-red, and ironically, had blood stains on them. Those joined the first two. The fifth was a light green, and was tied at the waist with a red and black stripped ribbon. Sparrow undid the ribbon and walked over to one of the mirrors in the room. No holes or stains ruined the dress, so Sparrow decided if she was to make Reaver fall for her, she may as well do it while wearing a dress. The clothes she wore were still damp, and torn almost to shreds in some places. She had also dyed them black, so she didn't look like a girl a man like Reaver would fall in love with.

Sparrow, determined to win back her home, took off her damp shirt and pants and slipped on the dress. It fit her perfectly. She used the ribbon to tie back her hair, and looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't look exactly like a noble woman, but it was better than looking like a rugged adventure that has no time to wash. Sparrow found the feeling of sickness had left without her noticing, so she guessed it was the damp clothes and the sea breeze that made her fell ill.

Pleased with the way she looked, Sparrow walked to the doors of the room and opened them. She half-expected to see Reaver on the other side, but there was only the stairway and the sky to greet her. She made her way onto the deck, seeing Reaver looking over the side of the ship. Good. He hadn't seen her yet. Being as silent as she could, she walked over to him. He didn't seem to hear her.

"Lonely?"

Reaver turned to face her, and his expression changed from blank to surprised.

"Well, don't you look nice today. And where did you find that?"

"Must you know everything, Reaver?" Sparrow asked. She leaned back against the wooden rails and smiled at Reaver. That was certainly new.

"Well your mood seems to have lifted considerably," Reaver muttered. "Care to tell me why?"

Sparrow sighed.

"I guess it just feels like the Guild's getting back together. I know Hammer and Garth are still gone, but… It just feels right. Going on a quest." Her face turned slightly red. "With… you."

Now what was all this nonsense? Did she actually enjoy his company? Last time he checked, she was blaming her sickness- which seemed to have vanished- on him! Such a confusing girl she was.

"Well my dear, I am, after all, enjoyable to be around."

Sparrow rolled her eyes at his narcissism, but didn't seemed annoyed by it.

Reaver suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and locked eyes with her.

"What… are you… doing, Reaver?" she asked slowly.

"Trying to find out what kind of demon dares possess you and make you act like you do," he replied coolly.

"I'm not possessed, Reaver… No, really. I'm fine," Sparrow told him. She wondered if he was going crazy. "You can let go of me, you know…"

"Prove it, then. Prove to me you're… you."

Sparrow sighed. So much for her plan. She thought for a moment, and lifted her hand to his face… and slapped him. Reaver let go of her and touched the spot where she slapped him as if in disbelief.

"That was uncalled for!"

"Well, you were asking for it. I was just trying to be nice to you," Sparrow muttered, blowing a stray hair from her face. She looked down at the deck of the ship, trying to avoid Reaver's gaze.

How long is this ride going to take… she thought.

"So why did you change into the dress?" Reaver asked, pulling Sparrow from her thoughts. She refused to look up at him, however.

"My clothes were damp, which was making me sick. And this was the only piece of clothing I could find that didn't have bullet holes or blood stains."

"Touché, my dear."

"And I guess… I don't know… I look like crap in my normal clothes and…"

"Trying to impress me, my dear?"

Sparrow gave no response, so Reaver lifted her face so he could look into her eyes. Much to his disappointment, she gave him nothing but an emotionless, detached stare. He hated it, too. It seemed her years in the Spire weren't for nothing. So Reaver was determined to get something- anything- but her unresponsive look.

Sparrow could feel her own heart racing in her chest as Reaver stared down at her. Why was he staring at her like that? He had given her the same look when he was drunk. And this time, Sparrow didn't know if she could get away in time.

Before either Sparrow or Reaver could comprehend what was happening, the two kissed.

The instant the ship found land, Sparrow climbed off and raced for the cover of a ship wreck. A heavy rainfall had begun just a few minutes before the ship reached land, and Reaver had taken shelter inside the ship. Sparrow stayed out on deck, wanting to be nowhere near the pirate now. Water still leaked down through the cracks of the abandoned wreckage, but Sparrow found a dry place with a small pile of wood. She lit it with her will power, and sat down in the sand.

Her mind raced back to just an hour before the second her eyes closed. How had she let her guard down so much? Unless it was her idea, no one dared touch her. And it had been Reaver of all people to steal a kiss from her.

Sparrow regretted this quest, and hated Joy for giving her the idea to drag Reaver with her. She could have gotten through it alone. She made it though ten years in the Spire alone, and after that, no matter how hard a quest seemed, it was nothing compared to that horrid place.

The rain grew to a total downpour, and still Sparrow sat under the wreckage of the ship. The cold was starting to get to her, and the fact she was again soaking wet didn't help. The small fire in front of her gave off little heat anyways.

An empty bottle of wine sat on the table inside of the ships cabin, next to a drunken pirate who was muttering curses to himself. Reaver had tried to drink away the image of Sparrow in the dress she had found, but it still remained in his mind.

Only when the downpour stopped did Sparrow finally dry herself off, which took a good hour or so. There was still no sign of Reaver, either. Sparrow began to wonder if he fell asleep on the ship.

"Well, I'm not going to get any further with this quest just sitting here…" Sparrow muttered to herself. She rose to her feet and walked out into the light. Only the position of the sun seemed to have changed, and it was starting to set. "Another long night…"

Not wanting to find Reaver, Sparrow set off into the island. The only threat seemed to be beetles, which were quickly killed with a swing of her cleaver.

In the center of the island, Sparrow found what seemed to be a paradise. A waterfall filled most of the land below like a lake, and a single island rose about the water in the very center. Smiling to herself, Sparrow made the climb down. She landed in water, but it only went up to her boots. She walked across to the island, spotting an old chest. There was no lock, so it opened easily once the various mosses and vines had been cut away from the wooden box,

Inside was a bag of gold. Captain Dread's treasure. Sparrow took the bag and made sure it was tightly sealed. Having finished the quest, she began walking toward the cliffs she had climbed down. She stopped, however, seeing a familiar pirate at the top of those cliffs, looking down at her.

"This, my dear, is where we say goodbye," he told her, grinning like a cat that ate a canary.

"I'd rather not listen to one of your mad rants right now, Reaver," Sparrow called up to him, turning around to find another path.

"Oh, but I'm ever so sure you'll enjoy this one."

The click of a pistol echoed throughout the center of the island. Sparrow froze and turned around. Reaver leapt down to face her, pistol pointed at her. Sparrow said nothing.

"You see, dear Sparrow, I thought about what I had here. You simply find a ship and a load of treasure, and you were foolish to bring me with you. This island cannot be reached by any normal ship. So if I kill you, here and now, no one will find your body, and I get my little costal paradise back, along with the ship and a few new gold coins."

"Bastard," Sparrow muttered, drawing her own cleaver.

"Pirate."

"Is there really a difference?"

"Not really, dear Sparrow."

Reaver took a step toward her, but she didn't move.

"Do you not fear death?" he asked her, curious to know the answer.

"Never have, seeing I can cheat it no matter what."

"Do tell me when you've ever cheated something like death."

"When my sister was murdered, I was shot in the heart and fell from Castle Fairfax. I lived. Lord Lucian shot me in the head. I lived through that, too. The banshee's say I live because not even the Void wants me."

"I'm sorry to break it to you, Sparrow-"

Behind her back, in her free hand, a ball of white light began to form.

"But you will not-"

The light grew, but Reaver seemed not to notice.

"Get out of here alive."

Sparrow threw the ball of light into the ground. Reaver fired his pistol.

Sparrow stepped calmly out of the way of the bullet Reaver fired, and walked past him. She paused to look at his face for only a moment, then continued on to the cliffs. She climbed them, and was at the top just as time sped up.

The bullet lodged itself in the tree, and Reaver spun around. Sparrow vanished from his sight. He cursed. Every time he tried to kill her, something got in his way. It was just… unnatural. As if someone was keeping her alive for an unknown reason.


	7. Shadows of the Past

**A/N: Okay, okay, it has been a while. A long, _long, long, LONG_ while. And I'm so very sorry I had left for such a long time! Classes came crashing down, some people in my family passed away, as well as some people from my school. 2012 hasn't been a kind year to me, but, as I continue to say, I _won't_ leave this story unfinished. Even if I do take a few months off. I know some of you out there will say, 'that's no excuse', and I guess it's not. I'm so very sorry for the delay, but this show shall go on for now. I have one week left of school, and then summer shall begin, meaning I'll have more time with my computer to get cracking on these updates. **

**Also- question to everyone who wants to answer: Should I do a re-write on this? The plot would stay the same, ect, ect, but the more I look at this, the more I think I could do so much better. Any opinions?**

**~D/P**

**Chapter VII**

**Shadows of the Past**

In the mists of Wraithmarsh, a heavy fog set in. Sparrow, who stood inside one of the abandoned homes, watched and waited for the sound of a banshee. Why she was even in the one place they were most common in was beyond her. In fact… she didn't even remember getting back to Bloodstone.

_The lack of sleep must be messing with my memory,_ she thought.

There seemed to be no banshee in the mist that now surrounded the small part of Wraithmarsh. Sparrow stepped out into the fog and waded though the murky water. Still no banshee. Maybe the fog was natural, and she was just paranoid.

Standing in the middle of what used to be the town of Oakvale, the mist parted enough for her to see a hooded figure.

"Hello…? Are you lost?" Sparrow asked, taking a step toward the figure, who said nothing at all. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Sparrow placed a hand on the shoulder of the figure. Much to her shock, her hand past though the figure as if it were just a shadow. This was exactly what it was.

The shadow turned to face her, red eyes glowing with hate. Sparrow took a step backward, tripping over a sunken log in the water. She fell, drenching herself in the swamp water.

"The hell? What do you want? I thought you haunted Reaver, not me!"

The shadow bent down and seemed to grin at her. Sparrow tried to back away, but found she couldn't move her arms or legs. They had become like stone.

"Get away! I want nothing to do with you!" she snapped.

The shadow laughed at her.

"_It is not a matter of what you want. We simply need you to get to the immortal pirate! You are his only weakness. We kill you, he will certainly die as well_."

"Why do you want Reaver to die so badly? What's he to you?" Sparrow snapped.

"_Our reasons are beyond your comprehension. You will die, hero of light, and you will drag him down with you_."

Sparrow spat in the shadows face.

"Like hell I will," she muttered.

The shadow seemed to take offence to her action. From the dark cloak that covered its body, a bone-like hand stretched out and grabbed her neck. Sparrow once again tried to get away, but her whole body seemed to be made of stone now.

"_Your time will come. And when it does, you will wish I would have killed you here and now. I promise you _will_ watch the pirate die, even if you are already dead and gone. You will watch him suffer without you._"

Sparrow sat up in her bed, gasping for breath. It took all of her mental strength not to scream. She found herself back in her own room in the Bloodstone manor.

_Right… I left for the ship and returned to Bloodstone… with Reaver. Even though he tried to kill me. What the hell was I thinking?_

It was true the pirate had tried to kill her. That had been no dream. Yet, like the last few times he tried to get rid of her, once they failed, he moved on as if nothing had happened.

Never in a million years would Sparrow figure out what went through that pirates head. Maybe he had some kind of attention disorder.

Sparrow threw off the covers and changed out the green dress she had slept in. By the time the ship had docked in Bloodstone, she was too tired to change into her nightgown. She hated the thing, anyway.

Before walking out into the hallway, Sparrow glanced at herself in the mirror. She wore an old gypsy outfit, but most of it was covered by a patched long coat she had bought in Old Town. It may have not looked like the best thing a hero could wear, but at that time, winter was settling in and she had no decent coat of her own.

Sparrow opened her door to find the house dead silent. She walked quickly down the stairs and into the study, finding only Cora, who was sound asleep by the fire place.

She sat down at the table and pulled an old leather book from a pile. She recognized it instantly: her Spire journal. Every day for three-thousand, six-hundred and ninety days she had written at least one thing she wanted to remember in the book. Once or twice, she was almost caught by the Commandant, and smoothly told Lucian's creation she was simply keeping record of the prisoners she was in charge of at that time. He believed every word she said. Loyal to Lucian, yes. Intelligent, not so much. After all, what kind of smarts would someone need if they took orders from a mad-man?

On the cover of the book was the imprint of the Spire. Once she had returned to Albion, she had a leather-worker brand the shape onto the cover. It was the only decent symbol she could think of at the time.

Just as she opened the book and began to read, the front doors opened and Joy was in the study in seconds.

"Tavern. Now. We need to talk."

Sparrow looked up at her friend and sighed. She stood, setting the book back down on the table, and allowed herself to be dragged down to the tavern.

Logan was already inside, sitting at one of the tables.

"What's this about?" Sparrow muttered as Joy made her sit down. "Did something happen?"

Joy and Logan both exchanged worried looks, but the hero spoke first.

"Well, for starters… What happened between you and Reaver?"

Sparrow blinked.

"Why do you, eh… ask? We went on a quest, so what?"

"So what? Sparrow you do realize that I… Never mind, you'd kill me if you knew. Anyway, both you and Reaver haven't been acting right."

"Nothing happened Joy. We did what we were sent to do, and left. Nothing more, nothing less."

Joy stayed silent for a moment, and Sparrow began to think she had given up.

"You're lying."

_ Easy come, easy go._

* * *

><p>It was about noon when Reaver woke, and when Sparrow finally told Joy what had happened between the two. At least, the part where he tried to kill her. She didn't dare say anything else.<p>

Reaver made his way down into the empty manor, giving no thought whatsoever to Sparrow… until he blonde friend burst in yelling 'I'm gonna kill him!', and the black-haired hero followed after her.

Sparrow had obviously told her about their trip without leaving anything out. Reaver had no real proof, but the barrel of the clockwork pistol he was staring down was proof enough for him.

"You son of a-"

"Joy! Before you kill him, let me explain!"

"Why should I? After everything he's done, he deserves a bullet between the eyes!"

Sparrow forced Joy to lower the gun.

"Joy, something's happened and-"

"What else have you been keeping from me, Sparrow?"

"Nothing, I- Look, I'd like to explain but… Damn. This is hard."

Joy raised the pistol back up to Reaver's head, who was too stunned to say anything at the moment. Besides, the blonde might shoot him if he said the wrong thing, so staying silent for once might help.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill him now," Joy snapped.

"The… the bet we made!"

"Not good enough. He dies, and you get the manor without any trouble."

"Joy, I'm begging you! Lower the gun! I can't explain why you shouldn't kill him now, but I will! I honestly wish I could right now, but… it's complicated. It'd take a while."

"Start talking, then. Unless I can guess. And I guess you've fallen in love with him already."

Reaver smirked, but a couple of death-glares wiped the smile from him face.

"No… Never! Joy, just trust me when I tell you that this matter is even beyond Reaver."

"I assure you, dear, nothing is beyond me," Reaver told Sparrow.

"Put the gun down, Joy. Put it down and leave. I'll tell you as soon as he knows himself."

"I believe it is time you both knew, since it concerns all three of you."

A flash of light blinded the three heroes for a moment, and when they could see, they found Theresa standing in the middle of the room.

"What the…"

Joy dropped the clockwork gun and backed away from Reaver.

"I apologies for the delay, little Sparrow. I wanted to see how this situation would play out."

Sparrow simply smiled and nodded, while Reaver and Joy both gave her confused looks.

"You'll see," she whispered.

Theresa turned to Joy and Reaver.

"If you have not guessed already, trouble is once again brewing. This concerns you two as well as Sparrow. Joy, I know you wish to avenge your friend, but you must control your anger for now."

Joy muttered curses to herself.

"Reaver, I do believe you have found that some part of you cares for Sparrow."

Reaver glanced at Sparrow, who only shrugged. Sure, he was protective over any woman who was both beautiful and in danger, but why did the old blind witch-

_ Wait. Did I just call her beautiful?_

"By the look on your face, I'd say you have. Refuse this fact all you like, but it will not change fate. The Shadow Court thinks you have some attachment to her, and is plotting her own death. They hope her ruin will bring your own as well."

"So what do I have to do with all this? This sounds like it only concerns those two love-birds."

Joy ignored the glare from Sparrow.

"The three of you make up what will shape Albion in light, shadow, and the future ruler. The Shadow Court needs only you three to be killed, and Albion is for them to take.

"Then what I am?"

"That is for another time, Joy. For now, I have told you what you need to know."

Theresa vanished in a flash of light, leaving the heroes silent. After a moment or two, Joy picked up her clockwork pistol and put it back where it belonged. She sighed.

"So… See you guys later?" she muttered, looking from Reaver to Sparrow.

"I guess so," Sparrow replied.

"'Kay… Sorry for, eh… trying to kill you, Reaver."

The pirate shrugged and watched her walk out of the manor. Silence again brought its awkward-ness to the room. The blind seer had made it very clear that he had feelings for Sparrow, and now both girls knew it. He cursed.

"Well, if this was one of the books I read, you'd be confessing your love for me and we'd live happily ever after," Sparrow muttered. "Since it's not, though, I'm gonna go read."

Sparrow disappeared into the study, leaving Reaver alone for a moment. Without anything better to do, he followed her to see she was already reading a leather-bound book with a familiar tower imprinted on the cover. She must have kept that journal while she was in the Spire. How long had she been there? Five years? Ten?

"Need something?" Sparrow asked him without looking up from her book.

Reaver pulled up one of the wooden chairs and sat down. Sparrow glanced at him from behind her journal for a second, the continued to read.

"Three-thousand, six-hundred, and ninety days. I wrote in this book every day."

"Sounds dull," Reaver mused.

"It was the only thing that kept me from forgetting what I was doing there. After the first five years, everyone forgot who they were, why they were there, and what their life meant. I was the only one who remembered."

"And you're telling me this why…?" Reaver asked her. Just listening to her was making him bored. Maybe he should throw another party…

"Because you wanted to know. You were about to ask my anyway, and I figured I'd save you the oxygen."

Reaver gave her a look, but she didn't notice. She flipped the page, and caught a loose piece of paper. She opened it. Reaver swore she almost smiled. How such bad memories could make her so… happy was beyond him. If he went through something like she had, he would banish every thought of what happened. And yet she was sitting in front of him, reading about and probably reliving hell.

"Why do you even bother reading that?" Reaver asked her.

Sparrow set the book down on the table.

"I don't want to forget why I wanted killed Lucian, and the horror he put me though."

"My, my, aren't you morbid today?"

"Well, if you really want to know…" Sparrow said as she pushed the book over to him. "Read it and find out for yourself. I need a drink anyway."

Sparrow stood and walked out of the room, once again leaving Reaver alone. He wondered if she was just trying avoiding him… No, there had to be another reason. He picked up the book and began to read.

_594_

_ The Commandant ordered me to kill another one of my friends today. Again I turned on him with the sword he gave me. But unlike last time, my plan backfired. Literally. He blocked the blow and the flimsy metal turned on me. I now have a still-bleeding wound across one of my eyes. It stings like hell, and I can't see half of what's going on around me. No one in this place gives any medical help, but I managed to use the sheet from a cot- the man who slept there is now dead, I'm afraid- to soak up most of the blood. _

_ On another note, I was talking to one of my friends, Rin. She seems to be the only other girl around here, which I find both brave and troublesome. She told me she can't remember he brother's name… or if she even has a brother at all. I had made a note of her family when I met her, so I was able to restore her memory. _

_ How long it will take before even I forget why I'm here, too? It's been more than a year, and I wish I could get this mission over with. I can't help but blame Garth for trapping me here. Why did he let the Commandant take him away in the first place?_

_ 595_

_ Wound over eye healing quite fast. Can't write much. Commandant watching me. _

_ 596_

_ Damn that guard. He saw me writing and almost told the Commandant. Thankfully I was able to lie and call the man crazy. _

_ 597_

_ I wonder what the hero of skill is like… I hope he's not too much trouble. I've had enough trouble for about twenty lifetimes. _

_ 598_

_ Rin's birthday. She turns sixteen today. Or was it seventeen…_

_ 599_

_ Nothing to write except for this: I hate this place. I wish it just burst into flames and burn to the ground. _

_ 600_

_ Six-hundred days… I can't much more of this hell. The Spire is slowly rising. I hope Cora's alright._

_ 601_

_ I finally did something with myself that doesn't involve the slaughter of innocents. One of the guards- whom has gone quite mad and is completely loyal to the Commandant- tried to mess with me. He went as far as dragging me into an unused cell and demanding I submit to him. No one was around, so I took his own sword and slit his throat. One less guard to worry about… but one more to replace. I made it look like he killed himself. No one but Rin knows, and her mind is still intact._

_ Did I mention my hair is back to normal again? _

_ 602_

_ Again I think about the hero of skill. I hope he's still living by the time I get out of here, or I'll kill him. Wait…_

_ 603_

_ I admit it. I can't stand this any longer. I… I want to just get out of here, even if it means my own demise. The constant heartbeat of this place is driving me insane. I went as far as breaking down on duty. One of the more caring guards let me take the rest of the day off. I have to remember to thank him. _

_ 604_

_ I was called into the Commandant's chambers today for one reason only: So he could beat me. The wounds from the whip sting, even after Rin pulled out the pieces of rock embedded in my skin. I swear on my life, he will die slowly, and he will know I killed him. That is the one day I look forward to. The day that horrid creature is stuck like a pig and bleeds out onto the cold floor until he breaths his last breath of life. _

_Reaver stared at the last few words she had written on the page in dismay. For once, Sparrow didn't seem like a hero that saved every living being she saw. From what she had written, she sounded like a cruel, heartless killer. Even though he had watched her fight countless times with Spire guards, he still couldn't picture her as a killer. It just didn't fit her…_

_ Then again, Reaver's own past sounded like another person's life entirely. Maybe there was a side to this hero he had yet to see. Hoping to find out more, he skipped a few pages and continued to read. _

_670_

_ Unlike most of my days here, something happened that's worth writing about. With the help of Rin, a few of the prisoners escaped on a small ship that was headed for Bloodstone. My friend chose to stay behind, however. She tells me it was for my sake, and so if the ship was caught, I wouldn't be questioned and possibly killed along with the escapees. It seems our friendship is well-known around the Spire. _

_ So far, no one seems to notice the missing people. I thank every god and goddess for it. It gives me hope that I will escape this place with my life as well. If normal men can slip away, a hero should have no trouble, right?_

_ 671_

_ Still no notice of the missing people. I hope it stays that way until they are free in Albion again. _

_Reaver flipped past more of the shot passages until he came to a longer one. Something must have happened on that day, for a number of reasons. Sparrow's handwriting had become more shaky-looking, as if she had written in extreme cold. Small drawing accompanied her writing._

_1,020_

_ I have to write fast, for I have no idea how long I have. _

_ Rin was taken away two days ago, and when she came back… Something was wrong. Her eyes, which were blue before, are now almost white! The Commandant has done something to her, I just know it. _

_ When I went to talk to her, she said nothing to me and acted as if I wasn't there. I felt like a ghost… Since then, I have noticed all of the loyal guards have the same eyes: almost white. They hardly see me, too. I'm going to gut that creature for what he's done! _

_ Along with my fear for my friend, I'm horrified of what she may have said. She knew every one of my secrets, and about this book. If the Commandant knows, I won't make it out alive. _

_ Looking out across the cavern I am forced to call my home, I see Rin talking to one of the loyal guards as if they had been friends for a while now. As I strain to listen, I hear they are speaking of the Commandant. _

_ Rin says she's 'never known a better commander than him. I'd step in front of a bullet for him if it meant this place stays in order.' _

_ WHAT WAS THAT? _

_ She also says she 'can smell a rebellion coming' and wonders if she should 'ask for a double in guards. After all, I tried to plan one myself before I saw what we're really working for.'_

_ Those words she spoke scare me more than a pack of white balverines. I only hope she's not serious… or I may have to kill her in the end when I break out of this place. _

_Becoming bored with that page, Reaver flipped to the back of the book. _

_3,690_

_ Commandant beware. I made a promise to kill you, and today I will fulfill that promise. This marks the tenth year I have been here, and the last day I will spend in the shadows. You will pay for what you did to me._

Reaver closed the book. There was still no sign of the killer Sparrow seemed to be in the pervious text. She appeared to be the same, noble girl he had met and fought with. So why did she sound like another person entirely just once?

"How's life with the pirate?"

Sparrow turned around to see Logan. She set the pint of beer down on the bar counter and smiled.

"Who?" she asked. Logan glared at her. "Fine. If you must know, nothing has happened. It's like he's not even there."

Sparrow lied of course, but she did smoothly enough so Logan didn't notice.

"I still think this bet of yours is crazy," he muttered.

Sparrow sighed and rolled her eyes. She put a hand on Logan's shoulder and looked directly into his silver eyes.

"I won't loose, you hear me? Reaver is a repulsive, selfish man, and I could care less about him. Besides, I'd rather live a normal life from now on and leave this hero stuff behind."

"Not according to Joy."

Sparrow sighed again and let her hand drop to her side.

"What'd she say?" she asked, taking a drink from her mug.

"That you got some mystical message about the fate of Albion, and you have to save the world again."

"First of all, that message was a warning about the Shadow Court, which happens to be a very serious matter for me. Second of all, it wasn't about the fate of Albion. It was about what we have to do about it. Third, I'm pretty sure I've never saved the world before."

"What about the Spire?" Logan asked.

"That was a personal matter. I was going to kill Lucian no matter what, and he just happened to be plotting to destroy the world at the time."

Sparrow finished off her drink, and gave the mug back to the barman. She shoved herself off the counter and took a step toward the door.

"Well, I'm off to look for a quest or two," she told Logan. "Care to join me?"

Not wanting to leave Sparrow alone, Logan agreed and followed her out of the tavern. The sun was still rising above the water, and it cast a golden glow on the rolling waves. Sparrow walked out onto one of the piers where a couple of sailors stood chatting about some omen.

"Something the matter?" Sparrow asked. The sailors turned to her, and Logan half expected them to attack her. He found they reacted much differently.

"Ah, milady. We 're just talkin' 'bout some tav'n rumors. They say anot'er banshee's gonna attack within the month. And we're all wonderin' how ya gonna fight this 'un off. Yeh must be getting' tired o' fightin' sometime, milady."

Sparrow gave the sailors a warm smile.

"I'm sure if another banshee comes here, I'll kill it off just as I did with the rest."

"Ay, we're grateful fer yer help, milady, but some say ye fear the beasts now."

Sparrow froze, and her eyes widened slightly. The sailors just laughed, though.

"We know themes just wild chatt'r, though, milady. Nothin' scares yeh. Isn't that right, boys?"

The rest of the sailors agreed, and Sparrow relaxed a bit.

"Sparrow… Shouldn't we be finding a job to do now?" Logan asked her after a moment of silence went by. She turned to him.

"Of course." She turned back to the sailors. "I'll keep an eye out for any unusual fog. Good day."

The sailors gave Sparrow a salute as she walked away.

"Oh, before yeh go… I'd be wary of that Reaver yer livin' with. We'd all hate to see ya leave Bloodstone, milady."

Sparrow lost her smile for a more serious face, but did not reply and continued walking. Logan kept silent and continued to follow her. It became apparent that she no longer had her mind set on finding a quest. Instead, she walked in the direction of Wraithmarsh. At the edge of Bloodstone, she turned to Logan.

"I need some time to think," she told him. "And I'd rather be alone to do so."

Not waiting for an answer, Sparrow left for the haunted swamp, her cleaver drawn. Logan found himself alone once again, so he wandered back to the tavern to find Joy.

Sparrow sliced her cleaver through another hollow man, turning the bones to dust. The rusty sword it held hit the ground and vanished as well. The rest of the hollow men started to form a hoard, and with one swing of her cleaver, Sparrow dispatched at least half of the group. The remaining undead simply walked through the ashes toward her.

Drawing her crossbow, Sparrow backed up a few meters and began to fire arrows into the heads of the hollow men. Each one turned to dust on impact until none remained. Sparrow stood still for a moment, then replaced her weapons and continued walking deeper into the marsh.

Nothing but a gargoyle bothered Sparrow until she reached the drowned town. She stepped inside one of the half-burned houses. The floor boards creaked with age as she crossed the floor. Even though the town had supposedly burned to the ground, Sparrow found that most everything was intact. Furniture looked only to be victims of time, not flames. Upon opening some of the drawers, Sparrow found various papers and even a small painting hidden in the back.

Sparrow replaced the papers and made her way up the wooden stairs. The second floor appeared to be a bedroom. A single bed was pushed into the corner, and a small chest sat at the end of the bed. Sparrow slowly walked to the bed, being careful not to break through the old floor.

She opened the chest to find a silver key attached to a leather cord. It had no glow like the keys she collected, so she closed the chest and turned toward the window. The mist outside had thicken, and Sparrow could see a figure wandering around. She sighed, drawing her cleaver. Banshees weren't her favorite creature to fight, but it was worth the experience.

Sparrow walked down the stairs and peered out into the mist. The figure she saw from the window was still shrouded in mist, but she could see it wasn't a banshee, but a man.

_ Who in their right mind would be out here?_ she thought.

Sparrow was about to call out to whomever was wandering around, but she thought better of it when the man seemed to notice her presence.

"Alright, who's there? Come out and I'll try not to shoot you."

Why, oh why, did it have to be Reaver? Sparrow came here to clear her head and for once try to forget about him. Fate apparently didn't want that to happen.

Sparrow backed into the house, trying to be a silent as possible.

"Whoever is out there, I'd step forward," Reaver called.

Sparrow took another few steps into the house, and hid behind the wall. Much to her relief, she heard nothing more than her own breathing. She could only hope Reaver had continued on his way, leaving her on her own.

After what felt like hours, Sparrow looked back outside. Reaver was gone, and the fog had lightened up. With a sigh of relief, she stepped out into the water and looked toward Bloodstone. The sun was starting to set, and she didn't have much time to get back before every hollow man and banshee would be out looking for a fight. Sparrow began wading through the swamp again with her mind swirling with questions.

"Oh, come on!" Sparrow cried as a banshee appeared along with her shadow-daughters. "Can't I just go home?"

As the shadows ran at her, the banshee spoke.

"The Shadow Court were happy to meet you. Now they know the pirate's weakness, and they will kill you to get to him."

"I know, I know!" Sparrow yelled, cutting another shadow in half. "Avo, must you keep saying that?"

The banshee only screamed in reply as her last shadow-daughter was killed off. She fell to the ground and screamed even louder as poison arrows pierced her. Sparrow never gave any thought to the noise, or the attention the screaming banshee drew, until someone appeared through the mist.

"What the hell is going on?"

A final arrow killed off the banshee, and the body fell away to reveal two staring blue eyes. Reaver took a step back at the sight of Sparrow. How and why in the name of Albion was she in the middle of Wraithmarsh?

Sparrow replaced her crossbow and took a step toward him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, stepping over the body of the banshee. He gave no reply. "Reaver, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same, Sparrow dear."

She waded through the water until she was only a few feet from him. He could see her face was dotted with black blood from her fight.

"No, you couldn't, because I'm not the one sneaking around their old village and wandering through the mist like a creep," she said, taking another step toward him. "So explain."

"I'd rather not say, Sparrow dear. I'd like to stay somewhat interesting, you know."

"Okay, don't tell me," Sparrow said. She was trying her best not to sound angry. "So if you'll excuse me, I'll be going."

As Sparrow started back in the direction of Bloodstone, Reaver found himself stopping her by latching onto her arm. She turned back to him, glaring. Reaver saw then she had no idea what was going on in Bloodstone at that very moment.

"Reaver, what is going on?" she asked slowly.

"I… well, you see Sparrow dear, I… Just wanted to… I…"

Sparrow turned to face him head on, and stepped toward him.

"What is going on in Bloodstone Reaver," she asked him. Something was wrong, and she knew it. Something in his green eyes told her he didn't want her to go home. "Tell me."

When Reaver said nothing, Sparrow moved even closer to him. She put her free hand on his shoulder. The more she looked at him, the more fear she saw in his eyes.

"Reaver… What have you done…?" she asked. "Is everything alright?"

When she was given no answer again, she stopped treating him like a child.

"What the hell is going on?" she snapped.

"Shadows are in the town. They're not killing anyone, but they're looking for you. Last I saw, they were coming here to look for you," he whispered.

Sparrow pulled away from him and drew her cleaver.

"You… idiot! They're after Joy too! Or do you not remember Theresa's warning?"

Again she began walking toward Bloodstone, but she was stopped by Reaver. He was starting to annoy her and worry her at the same time. For someone who tried so many times to kill her, he sure wanted to keep her alive.

"Let go. I have to help Joy," Sparrow snapped, looking back at Reaver. "Run if you like, but I'm fighting."

"Sparrow, wait! Let me explain!"

She stopped and turned toward him. Her blue eyes looked like they were about the catch fire.

_ "LIKE HELL I WILL! REAVER, JUST LET ME GO!"_

Her shout echoed throughout the marsh, sending birds flying from the tree tops. Sparrow stood still, glaring at Reaver.

"We meet again, hero of light."

Sparrow whipped around to stare into the red eyes of a living shadow. She took a step backward.

"And just what hell do you want?" Sparrow whispered.

"Your death, of course," the shadow told her. She answered by spitting on the ground in front of him. "Such fire you hold in your heart."

"And I'll burn you to the ground if I have to," she retorted.

"What spirit. Is that why you chose her, Reaver?"

Sparrow turned around to look at the pirate.

"I don't know what you're talking about. She is nothing to me," Reaver told the shadow, avoiding Sparrow's gaze.

"Then you won't mind… seeing her killed."

Sparrow's eyes widened. She turned just as the shadow attacked her. Its black hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed with strength beyond any man or hero. Sparrow fell unconscious in an instant, and the shadow released her. It backed away and vanished from sight.

* * *

><p>Joy walked slowly toward Wraithmash with a bottle in her hand. A few shadows that looked like they had come from the Shadow court had wandered into Bloodstone, but they hadn't caused any trouble. It was almost like they were just looking for something… Joy shrugged. They had gone back to Wraithmarsh, so she figured they got what they wanted and left. Her thoughts returned to why she was even going to the banshee-infested marsh.<p>

Sparrow had vanished into the haunted swamp over an hour ago, and the blonde hero was determined to find her. As she walked, it occurred to her that she had seen Reaver leave Bloodstone as well, about ten minutes after Sparrow had left. Joy figured he was stalking her. Maybe that's why both of them seemed so strange.

Taking another drink from the bottle she held, Joy could hear footsteps coming from the entrance of the marsh. Within seconds, a man raced past Joy with something in his arms. She continued to walk, though…

…Until her mind made the connection to who just ran past her. Joy spun around just as Reaver reached the top of the sea-cliff that lead down to Bloodstone.

"Hey, wait for me!" Joy called, dropping the bottle and racing after him. She stopped when he saw the pirate again. He was crouching on the ground over a body… Sparrow's body.

Joy walked forward, unable to speak.

"Don't just stand there, you dumb blonde! Help her!" Reaver snapped, turning to look at her. Joy nodded and joined Reaver. One look at Sparrow and she knew her friend was beyond the help of a doctor.

"What happened?" Joy asked.

"A Shadow… attacked her. She just collapsed and hasn't moved since."

Joy could see she was still breathing, so her life wasn't in horrible danger. Still, it wasn't like Sparrow to go down and not get back up again.

"Resurrection phial," Joy snapped. When Reaver didn't respond, she turned to look at him. "Hey! You! Local idiot! Go get a resurrection phial! There's some in the manor, or have you forgotten? And don't worry about the shadows down there. They left."

Reaver stood, taking a last look at Sparrow before racing off. Joy muttered curses under her breath, most of them including the word 'pirate'. She turned her attention back to her fallen friend, and checked for a pulse. It was slow and faint, but she was still alive.

"Damnit, Sparrow…"

Reaver returned to the top of the cliff with a green bottle in his hand. Joy took it from him and yanked out the cork.

"Okay… 'Warning: Use of potion is guaranteed, but the time of resurrection can not be determined. Use with caution, as potion may cause memory loss.' Great, you got an old one, Reaver."

"How was I supposed to know? Just use it already!"

Joy sighed and emptied the phial into Sparrow's mouth, making sure she swallowed it. Once the liquid had been drained, she tossed the bottle down the cliff.

"Take her back to the manor, but wait a while before you go. There's a certain bandit that might try to kill you if I don't explain first."

Reaver knew who she was talking about. Logan did seem to be a bit too protective of her. So he let Joy race back to Bloodstone.

When ten minutes had past, Reaver picked Sparrow up again, and made his way back toward the manor. Anyone out on the streets gave him strange looks, and some whispered to one another. He did his best to ignore them and climbed the stone steps up to the manor. Once inside, he shut and locked the door. It wasn't uncommon for people to barge into his home unannounced, and with Sparrow still sick, it would be better if he was the only other one in the manor.

Of course, the blonde hero would want to see her friend at some point, so Reaver knew he wouldn't be alone for too long.

Reaver kicked open the door to one of the bedrooms, and laid Sparrow down on the bed inside. She still hadn't woken, or even moved in her sleep. Reaver had to trust Joy and her medicine, however, for he had no need or knowledge of the various potions. Seeing Sparrow was safe for now, Reaver left the room and went down into the study. He sat down at the table and looked through the stack of books that sat in a pile on the wooden tabletop. He found Sparrow's journal once again, and flipped to the back. New writing covered some of the pages.

_Life has gone back normal… Except I now have a pirate living with me, I swear my friend Joy is trying to push us together, and I have a jealous bandit watching my every move! Yes, normal life… How I hate it so. _

_ Reaver and I went out on a quest, and three things happened. One, I found a ship and some treasure. Huzzah. Second, and I still have no idea how this happened… Reaver kissed me on the ship we stole. Oh, how he will pay for that some day… Third, the confusing pirate tried to kill me. Obviously, he didn't, but it still makes me think. Why does he want me dead when Lucian is dead and no one's willing to pay any money for me? Even if I live as long as he does, I will never figure him out. Ever. Never, ever. That's another thing I hate. He lives forever. Oh, how he annoys me. _

Reaver smirked. Sparrow seemed to enjoy writing about him. He was about to read more, but a loud banging at the door pulled him away from the hero's writing. He stood and walked to the door. The instant he opened it, Joy raced inside. She raced up the stairs without a word to Reaver, which both annoyed and confused him.

Instead of going back to invading Sparrow's life, however, he followed the blonde up the stairs and into Sparrows room. He found Joy leaning against one of the walls.

"Care to explain why your medicine hasn't worked yet?" Reaver asked her.

"You grabbed a crap phial. What else did you expect?" Joy snapped back, glaring at him. "She could be asleep for weeks thanks to you."

"My dear, I hardly-"

"Don't even try sweet-talking me, pirate."

"Well then… As I was saying, I hardly see how this is my fault. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Joy's expression went from angry to blank.

"For once, I hope you're right."


	8. A Month Past

**A/N: What's this? Two chapters in one day? Thank TheRedDragonEnforcer4 (think you could keep those reminders coming? :D) for his/her(?) kind PM getting me out of this slump. So if you missed Chapter 7, go back and read that one! **

**Short chapter is short, but hey. On with the show!**

**~D/P**

**Chapter VIII**

**A Month Past**

As the light of the morning sun woke the town of Bloodstone once more, Joy woke in a very familiar room above the local tavern. With one look out the window, she tossed off the blankets and stood, already dressed and ready to go about her day. She walked out of the room and down the stairs, greeting Logan, who was having a drink, as she past.

Joy stepped outside and stood still for only a moment. Clouds over the horizon meant a storm was on its way, and it didn't look mild. She didn't give the sky much thought, though. She had more important things to do. Joy walked quickly though the streets up to the Bloodstone manor. Reaver had thrown a party last night, and Joy had learned from experience that she was the only one in Bloodstone who would bother to clean up after word. Reaver was used to having maids around to do the cleaning after, and he was either too lazy or too preoccupied to do any cleaning himself.

Upon reaching the gates of the manor, Joy saw two girls, one with blonde hair and the other with black, leaving the manor. Both were giggling and whispering to each other, most likely about Reaver. When they saw Joy, though, they stopped.

"Oh, look. The maid's here to clean up," the black-hair girl said, smiling at Joy.

"Good luck with your work," the blonde said, smiling in the same manor

Joy held back the urge to light them on fire.

"So sorry. I had no idea the traveling _brothel _was in town. I'm sure you two have to get back to your caravan, and be on your way," Joy said, smirking at them. Both girls looked disgusted.

"I'll have you know that we were just passing through with our parents, who happened to be nobles! We're not part of some gypsy group!" Blondie snapped.

"Ah, nobility. I assume you're going to see people slaughtered at the Crucible next?"

"Sure are. Daddy bought us front-row tickets, too!" Blackie squealed, grinning like a cat.

"Well, I wish you _both_ good luck," Joy said. She began walking past them toward the manor again, but stopped and turned around. "Oh, I never caught your names."

"Carlene and Marice. We come from the Dwight family," Blondeie said.

"Well, I'm Joy from the Severns family. Good day."

Joy turned around and snickered. Her family was well-known, as she could see in her mind the shocked faces of the two girls. Being the daughter of a noble had perks, even when they did try to control her life.

Now, back to the cleaning…

Almost an hour past and Joy was still mopping up spilled wine and picking up broken glass. Reaver was apparently still sleeping, since he hadn't heard her and come down to see who was in the manor. As Joy picked up another shard of glass, though, footsteps came from upstairs, followed by the pirate himself.

"Morning, Reaver," Joy muttered as she tossed the broken glass into a sack. "Sleep well?"

Reaver yawned and made his way down the stairs.

"I guess you could say that, but I may have slept better if-"

"Don't even think about it, pirate," Joy snapped without looking up from her work.

"You're no fun at all, are you?" he asked.

Joy sighed and paused for a moment, closing her eyes. She couldn't stand the pirate, yet she continued to stay in the manor. If it weren't for Sparrow…

"I imagine you must be eager to see your sleeping friend up stairs," Reaver said. "So why work for me when you could just go see her and leave?"

Joy opened her eyes and look at Reaver.

"You could at least have the decency to call Sparrow by her name. She's not a stranger to either of us," she snapped, setting the bag of broken glass down. "And if you have forgotten, this is still her manor. Not yours."

Joy shoved her way past him and walked up the stairs. She had made the same trip every day for a month now, and still Sparrow continued to sleep. Whatever the shadow had done to her, the effects were still lingering despite the medicine.

Joy opened the door to find no change. Sparrow still slept. It was starting to worry Joy, but she wouldn't give up. Logan had, and become a regular drunk. Hammer and Garth were too far away to even know what was going on. And Reaver, well… was being Reaver and still didn't care about anyone but himself.

Said pirate appeared behind Joy. She didn't realize it until he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"What," she muttered blankly, shrugging his hand away.

"I figure staying here isn't really what the last hero in Albion should be doing," he whispered.

Joy whipped around, scowling at him.

"If you wanted me to leave, why didn't you just say so?" she muttered. "Admit it. Theresa was right about you."

* * *

><p>Joy said nothing more as she walked past Reaver and out of the manor. The pirate stood still, staring at the space Joy had occupied for some time. Why did she have to taunt him with the truth? More importantly, who had she told that truth to? No one ever mentioned Sparrow to him, but they would loose their head if they did. Every person in Bloodstone knew if they said the wrong thing, they wouldn't live to see another day. So what if that blonde hero had told everyone? Gossip spread like wildfire in the town.<p>

"Who the hell are you and why the hell are you in my house?"

Reaver found he was staring down a loaded crossbow, armed with what looked like poison arrows. He looked down the weapon to who was wielding it, and he found himself staring into a pair of ocean-blue eyes that could only belong to Sparrow herself.

"You always were a violent one, my dear."

Sparrow, with eyes wide, took a step backward. She lowered her weapon and set it down on the edge of the bed behind her.

"Oh, Avo, Reaver, I'm sorry, I didn't-" She stopped mid-sentence. "Wait, why am I apologizing to you anyway?"

Reaver chuckled.

"Apology accepted, my dear. Now, I'm sure your blonde friend would be happy to see you."

Sparrow didn't move an inch.

"Reaver, what happened… what did that shadow do to me? I feel like I died and come back to life… and I know what that feels like."

"I wish I knew… I just remember saving your life, and, well, a month later, here we are!"

Sparrow sighed.

"A month… A whole month and I slept through it," she whispered. "And you- saved… me? Why in the name of Albion would you do that? You said yourself that I was nothing to you."

"I can change my mind, can't I?" Reaver protested. "Besides, I wasn't about to let the Shadow Court kill you. That's my job."

"My hero," Sparrow muttered sarcastically. "I could just kiss you."

"That I don't object to, my dear Sparrow," Reaver said, smirking.

"If that's what you've been waiting for, wait a little longer. I have things to do."

Sparrow walked past Reaver and down the stairs, but slowly. She was dizzy, and had to keep a good grip on the railing as she walked. After sleeping for a month, she didn't expect anything less, but she was a _hero_. Hero's didn't get sick. Not like this, anyway.

She pushed open the doors of the manor and walked out into the sunlight. She raised a hand to cover her eyes, and continued to walk. Now why did the sunlight bother her? It never had before. Sparrow guessed her eyes were just not used to light yet. So she continued on toward the tavern, ignoring the strange looks from people.

Out on the waterfront, she could see nothing had changed much. A few new ships had made port, but that was all. Even though summer was ending, it was still warm out and the trees were still green. Sparrow turned toward the tavern, seeing nothing but game-makers and drunks. A year could have gone by and Bloodstone would have remained the same.

Sparrow walked into the tavern, seeing no one she knew. Joy must be elsewhere, and Logan… she had no idea what the bandit was up to. Until she saw him sitting at the bar, anyway. He hadn't seen her, though, so she walked up behind him.

"Logan?"

The bandit turned around to look at Sparrow. At first, he seemed like he didn't recognize her, but after staring at her for a moment, his eyes widened with disbelief.

"Sparrow… You're… alive?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked him, smiling. Her answer came in the form of the bandit almost knocking her off her feet with a hug. "Miss me, Logan?" she asked, laughing quietly.

"I thought you died… Or worse."

"What could be worse than death?" Sparrow asked, lightly pushing Logan away so she could at least look at him.

"Falling in love with Reaver," Logan muttered back. "That'd be worse than death."

"I don't see why you have to bring up that pirate. I'll never fall for him. I promise."

"Good," Logan whispered. "Don't ever break that promise."

Even before Sparrow knew what was happening, the bandit had kissed her. She found she could do nothing to stop him, and her whole body was frozen where she stood. Her senses seemed to vanish as well, but the sound of a gunshot brought her back.

Sparrow broke away from the bandit and felt a strong grip on her wrist. She didn't even have to look at who grabbed her. The person spoke, and she knew very well who had a hold on her.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

* * *

><p>Reaver. It <em>always <em>had to be Reaver. He just _had_ to follow her to the tavern.

"Answer me, damnit! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sparrow tried to pull her arm free from Reaver, but his grip was like iron. So she turned to look at the pirate and tried to talk, seeing Logan was scared stiff.

"This isn't the time or place for this," she whispered, seeing everyone in the tavern was staring at them. The look in the pirate's eyes made Sparrow almost shiver. Not even when he tried to kill her did he look so angry. Her words didn't seem to change his mind, either. So she tried again. "Everyone's staring at us… Please…" Reaver still gave no sign of calming down. Sparrow started to panic when he pointed his Dragonstomper .48 at Logan. She had one last shot before the bandit was killed. So she swallowed her pride for once, and did the only thing she could think of at the time. Sparrow raised a hand to the pirates face, forcing him to look down at her. She looked up at him with a meaninglessness empty stare. "Reaver. Let's go home."

Whether it was what she said to him, or what she did, he seemed to hear her. The distressed look on his face vanished, but the grip on her wrist remained. Silently, Sparrow left the tavern with Reaver, looking back at Logan once to make sure he was alright. He only gave her a puzzled look as she walked out of his sight.

_Logan,_

_ Gone to Bowerstone. Need to kill something for a change. _

_ ~Joy_

Logan sighed and stuffed the note into his pocket. Of course Joy had left the day he needed her help. She must have left on a ship to Westcliff while he was busy drinking. Logan stepped out of her room and walked quickly out of the tavern down to the docks. He boarded a ship to Westcliff, hoping he would find Joy before anything happened to Sparrow.

The ship made port in less than an hour, and Logan went from being sea-sick to being car-sick. The carriage he took to Bowerstone hit every bump possible on the way to the market town. At least he was saved the inconvenience of being attacked by bandits. Anyone in the Bandit Coast would have known him at first glance, and asked what he was doing.

The carriage came to a screeching halt, and Logan almost fell out of the unlocked door.

"Bowerstone," the driver called.

Logan took no time in opening the door and stumbling out into the busy town, which was busier than normal. A large crowd had gathered in the middle of the bridge. Among the crowd, Logan could make out Cora pacing back and fourth. He quickly walked over, doing his best not to loose what food he had in his stomach.

From what Logan could see, the crowd surrounded someone playing a lute. Whoever it was, they were doing a good job. The performer finished, and the crowd cheered A few people walked away, and the others continued cheering and asking for more music.

"Sorry, I'm done. Thanks for listening, though."

Logan was surprised to hear the voice of Joy, and when the remaining crowd left, he could see Joy with a lute in her hands.

"Oh, hey Logan! What's going on?"

"Before I tell you anything… Why were you playing the lute?"

Joy looked down at her instrument.

"Oh, I figured I'd make some extra money. You know, for those augments I need for my cleaver," she told him. "I'm not rich all the time. Besides, I need a break from worrying about things like that bet Sparrow made with Reaver. And the fact that she's in a coma. Stress can kill, you know."

"Right…"

Logan wished she hadn't mentioned Sparrow…

"So what did you need?"

"Just… Oh, nothing. Just wondered if I could… keep you… company…"

Joy gave the bandit a strange look, but didn't question him at all. Though she did wonder what he was hiding. Instead of asking, though, she took the chance to have some fun. One of the guards in town had mentioned a troll that needed to be killed…

It was then that Logan realized Joy was insane. Criminally insane, for that matter. When she mentioned troll hunting, Logan thought the trolls would be more like hobbes. He was wrong. So very, very, _very_ wrong. The second the troll sprang from the earth, Logan wanted to run. The idea of leaving Joy to fight the creature alone was the only thing keeping him there.

"Alright! You ever fought one of these before?" Joy cried over the sound of crumbling earth and the roar of the troll. Logan shook his head and continued to stare at what he was about to fight. "Okay! It's very simple! All you have to do is aim at the veins in its neck, and- DUCK!"

A chunk of earth flew over Logan's head just as he ducked down. He could see Joy, and she already had her clockwork pistol out. She seemed to be aiming, and when she fired, the troll stumbled backward. It recovered, though, and hit the ground as if it were angry. Logan wondered if trolls had a bad temper. When he was knocked off his feet by moving earth, though, he thought again.

Joy was at his side in seconds and pulling him to his feet.

"Gotta watch out for that. The bastards pack quite the punch."

She aimed at the troll again and fired a few more shots at it.

"So are you just going to watch or help me kill this thing?"

Both ducked when a rock came flying at them, and Logan pulled out his own pistol. The two fired when they could, and ducked and rolled when the troll attacked. It didn't seem to be slowing down, or even be injured at all, though. Logan wondered how Joy knew they were hitting the right spots.

"Alright, I've had it!" Joy cried when a fifth rock sailed over their heads. "This thing needs to die already!"

Joy emptied a round into the troll, but it still did nothing. She said about every curse word Logan knew, then put her pistol away.

"What are you doing?" Logan asked her, jumping out of the way of another attack.

"Something you'd define as 'insane'," Joy called back. "Just keep him busy, will ya?"

Logan had no real choice in the matter, so he moved in circles around the troll as it threw boulders at his head, missing every time. He could still see Joy, and she was indeed _something_. He just couldn't figure out what.

The blonde hero had wondered ever since she fought a troll in the Crucible along with Sparrow if there were other ways of killing one besides just shooting at it. She was about to find out.

Joy was busy climbing up a nearby dead tree, which was close to a high cliff. Behind her, Logan was doing his best to keep the beast busy. For a normal bandit, and from what Joy could see, he was doing a pretty good job, too.

Once she was within jumping distance of the cliff, Joy hooked one arm around a branch, and leaned toward the cliff. She reached out with her other hand, but the cliff was too far away. She pulled herself back to the dead tree and climbed a bit higher. The branches were starting to crack under her weight, and the fall down would knock her out for sure. She only had one shot, and if she didn't take it, both she and Logan would be troll food.

Joy braced herself and let go of the branches she held onto. Another crack sounded from under her feet, and the bark began to fall from the branch. Without wasting another second, Joy leapt from the tree she stood on just as the branches that held her broke and fell to the ground. She grabbed onto the cliffs edge, which instantly began to crumble under her grip. Instead of climbing up, however, Joy looked back at the troll. Its moss-covered back was to her, and was throwing another rock at Logan.

"Now or never," she whispered.

Joy dug her feet into the crumbing earth, and tensed her legs. With one push, she launched herself into the air toward the back of the troll. If she messed up now, it would be over. Joy, being a hero however, knew it was never over. Not until she won.

Joy landed on the back of the troll, wrapping her hands around a vine on its back. Her feet rested on a few rocks imbedded in its back, and she was free to use her hands. All the while, Logan watched her with amazement. The blonde hero drew her cleaver, and drew it back with both hands. She cried out in victory as she brought the cleaver to the neck of the troll. The creature made a sound that almost sounded like a scream, and slowly began to sway like a drunk. Joy didn't have enough time to jump down, and both she and the troll fell to the ground.

Logan braced himself for the worst, but out of the dust cloud walked Joy, coughing and laughing at the same time.

"Jammy bastard didn't know what hit him," Joy said through her coughs.


	9. Enigmatic Soul

**A/N: Holy Hell, I need to pay more attention to what I'm doing. Nearly skipped a whole chapter here- that wouldn't have been too good. Sorry if the email/notifications went out already and there wasn't a chapter to be seen. =_=''**

**Anyways, shout-out to 'evanglia123' for their review! Hopefully you haven't died of curiosity just yet. **

**Let's get this story a-rolling! And may this give you all the warm-fuzzies, I know that's what it did to me. **

**~D/P**

**Chapter IX  
>Enigmatic Soul<strong>

A night of rest and almost everything reverted to normal for both Sparrow and Reaver. The blonde hero and the jealous bandit were returning, though Joy still had yet to see Sparrow alive and well. So, using that excuse to distance herself from Reaver, Sparrow set out to find her friend, knowing exactly where to go.

She slipped out of the manor and walked as silently as possible down toward the waterfront, hoping Reaver didn't hear her leave and decide to follow her. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed she wasn't being followed, so she hurried down the stone steps to the port. The ship from Westcliff was still unloading people, and her two friends were among the travelers that stepped off. Logan was looking for her, and saw her the second he stepped onto the pier. She waved half-heartedly and smiled as the last conversation with him ran though her mind. As long as nothing like that happened again, Sparrow wouldn't have a problem with the bandit that followed her home.

When Joy saw her waving, the blonde hero was to her in seconds, hugging her a little too tightly.

"Joy, seriously, you can't greet me like this every time," Sparrow said once she was released.

"Oh, so I can't be happy if you're alive?" Joy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know me," Sparrow said, eyeing Logan as he joined them. "Always cheating death no matter what form it comes in."

"Yeah, whatever. Just don't do it again, okay?"

Sparrow sighed and nodded, agreeing.

"So how's life with the pirate? Did he do anything stupid lately?" Joy inquired. Sparrow's eyes flickered to Logan for a split second before she answered.

"Well… No, not really. I'm sure he'll do something moronic, seeing that you two are back, though."

Joy smirked at the thought.

"Well, I'm gonna go say hello to our pirate friend. You guys want to come with me?"

"I need some air, sorry," Sparrow said, deciding it'd be best to stay away for a little longer. Joy turned to Logan.

"I'll stay with Sparrow."

Joy nodded and ran off toward the manor, waving to them as she left.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" Joy called into the silent manor, looking around as she closed the doors behind her. "Hey, pirate! You here?"<p>

Joy wandered up the stairs, still hearing nothing but her own footsteps and the quiet metallic clink of her weapons. She froze the second she heard sound, which came from the door she was currently standing next to. Her hero instincts on edge, Joy slowly opened the door, looking in on the bedroom inside. What she saw didn't appall her- nothing ungodly was happening, she was thankful for that- but it did scare her.

The pirate was having some kind of nightmare, and he was shivering almost uncontrollably. Joy didn't dare move; she could only watch as the pirate turned his back to her, his shakes growing more violent.

_Hadn't Sparrow said she read something about this…? _

Whatever her friend had said, she remembered something about Reaver having reoccurring nightmares of his home being burned to the ground and everyone he loved murdered.

Joy both hated him, and felt she owed him something. Sure, he had bought her from a slave trader, but he brought her back to Albion, away from her parents. He never hurt her, never directly. Simply watching him suffer wasn't going to happen, she decided, though she wondered as she made her way towards the shaking pirate whether or not this was something she should be even seeing. In her mind, she saw fit for Sparrow to be the one to help him, not her.

Even with that thought in mind, Joy followed through with her quickly-made plan. She reached Reaver and put a single hand on his bare shoulder. His shaking stopped rather suddenly, and Joy was ready to run, but the pirate remained still.

"Reaver…?" she whispered, retracting her hand. "You okay?"

The pirate woke at her voice, sitting up and looking directly at her. Joy stepped back, locking eyes with him.

"Speak of this to no one, girl, and I may let you live," Reaver instructed her. Joy nodded in reply, and as she retreated into the hallway, she knew what she had just seen was never meant for her eyes.

"We need to talk," Logan said when Joy was gone. Sparrow gave him a cold look.

"No, we don't. There's nothing more to say," she muttered, walking away from him. She paused. "For the record, you don't have to hang around here. No one's making you stay."

Sparrow walked away, knowing her words were harsh, but it was the reality Logan didn't seem to see. Yes, he had come back to Bloodstone with her, but for what good reason?

The only two good guesses Sparrow could come up with is he, for some unknown reason, felt like he had to protect her. The other was he had quickly fallen in love with her, like most men did for whatever reason. At least he didn't demand a proposal from her like so many of her 'fans' did. They had left her alone after that morning, before Reaver had returned, though. She had scared them off, and she seemed to be doing the same with Logan.

_I'm going to die alone, aren't I?_ Sparrow thought to herself. Her only real friend was Joy, and she scared off anyone else that tried to get close to her, with the exception of Reaver. She didn't scare him, but he didn't try to get close to her. He was just… an exception.

The sun set on the port town, and silence filled the air for once. Sparrow, having spent most of the day inside her new ship, wandered out to meet the silence. For a moment, she was confused- a whole town couldn't have vanished. Then the lights up at the Bloodstone Manor, along with the outline of a man who had found himself on the roof of the house, told her exactly what was going on.

Reaver had thrown another party, and unless she wanted to spend the night on her ship, which would no doubt make her sea-sick, she would have to join in. So, with a sigh, she made her way to the manor and slipped inside the already-open doors. The house was alive with people, so it was easy for Sparrow to hurry up to her room without running into Reaver.

The pirate was rather pre-occupied with his fans to see Sparrow slip through. The girls that surrounded him gasped as he finished one of his many stories, and waited for him to tell another.

It was becoming hard to tell anyone anything without mention of Sparrow, Reaver found. As he recalled the trip to the Spire, he had to stop himself from mentioning the hero too much.

Sparrow shut the door behind her and leaned on it, closing her eyes. The sounds of giggling girls and drunks could be heard even through her door. She opened her eyes and walked to her bed, ready to get some rest even if the party threatened to keep her awake for most of the night.

Something in Sparrow's mind seemed to give her other ideas, though. It suddenly occurred to her that for as long as she could remember, she never had much fun. Ever since she left her old home for Bowerstone, the start of her long journey, she had no fun whatsoever. Not only did the constant threat of Lucian keep her dead-set on fighting, but so did the fact she couldn't be very social, due to her reputation of being followed by death.

"To hell with this," Sparrow muttered.

She opened her closet and began rummaging through her clothes, looking for something decent to wear to a party. Most of her clothes were torn or stained with dirt and blood, and she could only find one dress that didn't look like it had been worn by a balverine. Sparrow quickly rid herself of her shirt and pants, and slipped on the dress.

It was a dark red, with a white ribbon tied at the waist. Sparrow put on some knee-high black boots that made her at least an inch taller, tied her hair back with a ribbon the same color her dress was, and stepped out of her room. She walked calmly down the steps to the main room, ignored for the most part by the other people in the large space.

A string quartet played music in the background, and some of the people danced while others watched. Sparrow found herself fine by watching from the shadows of the room, smiling and enjoying the fact she was there. It wasn't long before she spotted the pirate, who was being swooned over by his many fan girls.

Not long after she saw him did he see her, as well. He excused himself from his place among his fans and made his way to Sparrow, who lost her smile the instant he approached her.

"What do you want, Reaver?" she muttered.

"Can't I simply stand next to you without you questioning it?"

"No. You'd better have some sort of question or sleazy comment, or I'll leave."

Reaver thought quickly. A bit too quickly.

"Where did you acquire such a nasty scar, Sparrow dear?"

Sparrow froze for a second, unsure of how to respond. _No one_ asked about her scar. Not even Hammer. Unconsciously, Sparrow touched the fading scar, covering it with the palm of her hand. Her eyes seemed to glaze over with though, making Reaver even more curious as to how she got it.

"…You… know the story of how I met Lord Lucian, right?" Sparrow asked quietly. Reaver shook his head. "Well… To make a long story short, he… shot me when I was about six years old… after he murdered my sister in the same fashion. The… shot hit me so hard; it forced me out a window. A piece of glass… found its way into my face as I fell. The rest you can figure out."

Sparrow fled from Reaver like a phantom, making no sound at all and vanishing out the open door, leaving him silent. He had half a mind to find her. It was a clear as daylight that she had been holding back her grief as she had recalled her past. At least she hadn't pulled a knife on him when he asked- this was the first party that hadn't been ruined since he returned.

Reaver's eyes flicked to his fans, then to the door. He sighed and strode out the door, cursing himself for feeling something towards the hero.

Sparrow hadn't gone far- she sat on the edge of the fountain that sat just a few yards from the manor, head down and black hair covering most of her face. Upon hearing footsteps, she looked up at Reaver, but quickly looked away. He had seen her face long enough to see her eyes were red and glazed over with tears.

Somehow, it didn't fit her. Sparrow seemed like the type to never show weakness like she was now. Nor was she the type to even attend one of his parties in the first place. To Reaver, she seemed less… Sparrow now. Even if he was, well, _him_, he thought he knew her well enough to expect no surprises.

"What do you want, pirate?"

Sparrow's cold tone made him shiver, and again he couldn't think of anything to say for at least a good minute or two.

"It seems I struck a nerve. I was wondering if I should be afraid for my life or not," Reaver said, hoping he hadn't just given her a very bad idea.

"Oh."

Was that it? 'Oh'? Was that all she had to say to him?

Reaver found her more confusing by the second. She wasn't the type to simply accept things, not with him. She should have had something better to say than 'Oh'. She always had some kind of witty come-back that would send the two off into some kind of argument until someone or something stopped them.

It was… maddening. _She_ was maddening.

"Damnit, Sparrow, what the hell is wrong with you?" Reaver snapped, both verbally and mentally. Seconds later, he wished he would have walked away and left her alone.

Sparrow stood and faced him; her eyes still red from her supposed crying. Nothing but hate filled her face, and Reaver knew she was going to let him have it.

"What's wrong with me you ask? Oh, maybe I was just reminded of when my only remaining family was _murdered before my eyes!_ Maybe, I was reminded of how it felt to have glass dig into my _eye_ like some kind of parasite! Maybe I reminded of how it felt to hit the ground from the top of a castle and _still_ be alive to _feel_ all that pain. _Maybe_ I was reminded of how _you_ took away _my_ revenge and became the man that _ruined my __**life**_!"

Reaver expected her to flee either down towards the water, or back to her room in the manor, leaving him standing outside like a fool. That, he could get over with a few drinks and the company of his guests, since it wasn't the first time Sparrow had left him alone, enraged over something. He expected nothing less from her. After all… She was _Sparrow_.

What he didn't expect was for her- the Sparrow that he liked to think he knew very well, the Sparrow whose actions he could predict without even trying ever since the Spire- to do that which he never dreamed would happen. It took Reaver a few seconds to acknowledge her arms wrapped around his neck and her face pressed to his chest, like she was a child whom had just lost a parent.

"I hate you so much, Reaver…" Sparrow whispered when he returned her embrace. Her comment made him laugh lightly.

"My dear Sparrow, the world would go to hell if you didn't."

She smiled at that, and Reaver began to wonder if he knew her as well as he thought. Her surprises seemed to wipe out all the words that described her… fiery, unforgiving, selfless, strong-willed, determined… all gone, and replaced with one word that fit her so perfectly, it could have been her name for all her cared.

_Enigmatic._

* * *

><p>From a distance, a hero and a bandit watched the whole scene play out, neither speaking a word until Sparrow had dried her eyes and allowed herself to be escorted back to the manor by Reaver, smiling up at him the entire time.<p>

"Well that was interesting," Joy muttered. "I never thought I'd see the day when those two got along."

"Where have you been, under a rock?" Logan scoffed. "And I thought it was men that were dense."

"Someone's jealous."

"So you're okay with those two being a couple? Reaver's horrible, and Sparrow-"

"Is happy."

Joy's words, along with the very serious look on her face, stopped the bandit mid-sentence. He hadn't thought about that.

"That pirate may be the worst person on any plane of existence I can think of. We both don't like him, and Sparrow doesn't think so highly of him either. But now…" Joy looked back over her shoulder at the manor. They were close enough to see through the open doors, and the figures of Sparrow and Reaver could be clearly seen. They seemed to be talking, each with a glass in hand. Joy turned back to Logan. "But now, for some reason I'll never understand… she's happy, being around that god-forsaken pirate. If you haven't noticed, Sparrow wears a masque almost all of the time. That's what the Sparrow we both know, and the Sparrow I have only met once before."

"Why-"

"Have you _ever_ seen Sparrow that happy, Logan? Like I said, I've only seen her like that- without her masque- once. I don't know why you object to all this. You hardly know either of them. But if you think you can make Sparrow smile like she is now-" Joy waved a hand toward the manor. "Be my guest and do so."


	10. Cat and Mouse

**A/N: Okay, again with the two-chapters-in-one-day. Go back to see if you've missed anything. And remember to review, my wonderful readers! Lately, the one's I've been getting are giving me the war-fuzzies, and that's always nice. And remember- the more critique-like a review is, the happy I am! **

**~D/P **

**Chapter IX**

**Cat and Mouse**

In the Bloodstone manor, a whole different kind of battle was taking place. Sparrow refused to speak to Reaver and ignored him as well, no matter what he said to her. Her silence was getting on the pirate's nerves. No one but her blonde friend had ignored him before, and he didn't like it.

Sparrow sat in the study writing in her journal. She continued to ignore Reaver, who was pacing back and fourth in front of the fire place. The pirate was trying to figure out how to make her talk, but was coming up with nothing but pointing a gun at her head. Killing her now was out of the question.

The only thing he could do now was peer over her shoulder at what she was writing and hope she'd talk, even if it was an insult. He did just that, but she continued to write and didn't even glance at him. No one ignored him! So how did she do it so well? And more importantly, why the hell did he even _care_?

Sparrow was well aware that Reaver was invading her space, but she ignored him. If he was trying to annoy her, he'd have to try something else. Breathing down her neck wouldn't work. She figured he would quit in a minute, and go back to pacing in front of the fire.

* * *

><p>"That's the place, then eh?"<p>

Collin looked from the hooded man to the house up on the hill, and then back to the man.

"Kill the girl. That is all we require."

The truth was, Collin didn't exactly know why he was taking a contract from such a shady character. Sure, he and his crew of bandits had been running short on funds, and it was a dark miracle that someone just happened to have a high-paying job for them, but he still didn't like it.

He had done work for the owner, Reaver, before, but supposedly it wasn't _his_ manor anymore. And it wasn't the Pirate he would be killing… just the girl that had moved in.

"Alright, men!" Collin shouted to the group of bandits that were waiting near the docks. "Let's get to it!"

* * *

><p>Ten minutes past, and Reaver still was looking over her shoulder. Sparrow found the constant…<em> nearness<em> to be at least a bother.

"Do you mind, Reaver?" Sparrow asked as she continued to scribble away on the blank page. She finished a sentence and shut the book. "I might just have to go up stairs and get my cleaver."

Reaver backed off, and Sparrow stood up to face him. Her blue eyes held no emotion, which wasn't quite uncommon. Seeing what had happened just moments ago, however, made her blank stare strange. Both Sparrow and Reaver tried to think of something to say, but couldn't. The silence grew unbearable, and Sparrow was about to tell Reaver she was going to go upstairs and get some sleep. However, like most of her plans that followed the lines of 'normal', they were stopped by fate. And fate decided to come along as the front door being kicked down by a group of very angry bandits, holding guns and blades of every shape and size.

"What the hell!" Sparrow and Reaver both said, looking toward the door. As heroes, neither of them needed any further explanation to what was happening. Sparrow, having no weapon, raced for one of the bookshelves and yanked a thick book from its place. Reaver pulled out his pistol and began firing at the bandits that barged into the study.

The bookcase Sparrow stood in front of shuddered and began to move, revealing a hidden passage. At least she had remembered that. They were cornered, and the tunnel gave them a way out.

"Oi! She's getting away!"

Sparrow summoned her will to slow time- but nothing happened. She looked down at her hand, and tried another spell. Only a small spark of fire lit up in her hand, and it quickly died out. One of the bandits was walking toward her, cleaver in hand ready to kill her.

Reaver didn't seem to notice she was being attacked. He was busy blocking the blows of the other four bandits that just wouldn't die. No matter how many times he shot them, they kept on standing back up and trying to kill him. And Sparrow didn't seem to be doing much to help him, either. He looked over at her, and shrugged. She seemed to be doing fine.

Thinking fast, Sparrow pulled one of the guns down from the wall. She didn't shoot, but she did empty the gun powder from it. How or why there was still powder didn't matter to her; she was just glad she had a weapon.

Without any way to slow down time, Sparrow had no idea if her plan would work. She executed it anyway.

The bandit, blood-stained meat-cleaver in hand, was close enough to strike Sparrow. He made the horrid mistake of seeing her only as a girl without a single weapon. After all, the gun in her left hand had no powder, so how could she shoot? The bandit raised his cleaver, aiming to cut her chest open. As he did this, Sparrow threw the gun powder at the bandit. Not even a second after, she tried to light another fire in the palm of her hand. Only a small spark shot out from her palm, but it was enough to ignite the air-born powder and send white fire flying at the bandit, who had no time to comprehend what was going on. It also burned Sparrow's hand, and she stepped backward into the tunnel staring down at her burns.

The bandit lit up like a torch and dropped his cleaver, falling to the floor as well. The screams echoed in the manor, attracting the attention of both the group of bandits and Reaver. As Sparrow expected, Reaver was at her side within seconds. She, however, did not expect him to shut the bookcase in front of them, locking them out of the house.

"Is _everyone_ trying to kill me today?" Sparrow cried.

* * *

><p>"Well, it seems we're going to be stuck here until those greedy bandits take what they want," Reaver said. Sparrow, who now sat on the cold stone floor with her head down, sighed and nodded, her mind obviously on something else. "Something on your mind, Sparrow dear?"<p>

She only nodded again, refusing to look up at Reaver. It wasn't that she didn't want to- for once, she simply had no energy left. Her head felt like it was filled with broken glass, too.

"You know, this reminds me of what you were like all those years ago. Silent as the dead, but with so much to say."

Again, she said nothing.

* * *

><p>Sparrow's eyes opened, and what she saw was far different than what she had expected to be looking at. How had she gone from sitting in a cellar to standing in… where ever she was now? The fog around her was so thick she could only make out an iron gate and fence in front of her.<p>

Even so, Sparrow walked to the gate and pushed it open. Inside, the fog seemed to lift, and everywhere she looked, she saw graves. Most of them were blank, or crushed beyond recognition. Sparrow wove her wave through them, stopping to read what writing she could find on them. All the names where people she had met before in Bloodstone… Even the now-dead bartenders name she recognized. As far as she knew, the rest of the named people were alive.

"Strange vision…" Sparrow muttered to herself. "At least I'm not a little girl like normal."

More elaborate grave stones appeared the more Sparrow walked, but they were all blank. All except one, of course.

"Bloody hell…"

Sparrow stood frozen, staring at the name etched into the stone with wide, glazed eyes.

"Bloody hell…" she repeated, putting a hand on the grave, doubting its existence.

It was real, sure enough, and the words written on the stone made Sparrow retract her hand. One second longer she looked at the grave. Then she turned and ran from it like it was death incarnate, not stopping until she reached the iron gate and shut it. The fog grew thick again, and Sparrow felt like it was embracing her. It felt… almost warm, too, like she was being protected by it.

_I must be going insane._

* * *

><p>Sparrow woke from the strange vision with a jolt and quite the surprise. She wasn't where she had fallen asleep, nor anywhere near the ground. Her vision was still a bit foggy, but she knew when she was being carried. She knew very well who was carrying her, too.<p>

Her vision cleared, and sure enough, she was in the arms of the pirate.

"Reaver… PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!"

**(Okay, okay, too many damned break-lines. Forgive me, there was no way around it. :P)**


	11. A Life for a Life

**A/N: Okay, I am nuts giving you guys three chapters in one day, aren't I. I just couldn't help myself- I needed to walk away from the computer knowing that I left you guys with a good amount of words to read. The chapters, for whatever reason, are getting too short for my own liking, so... Why not upload a bunch and see what happens?**

**~D/P**

**Chapter XII**

**A Life for a Life**

"What the hell was that, Reaver?" Sparrow demanded once her feet were back on the ground. Her face was still red, but with more anger than embarrassment.

"Sparrow, dear-"

"I thought I told you _not_ to call me that anymore!"

"Alright, then, Sparrow… Be rational for a moment, will you? Just listen to me!"

"You have thirty seconds, Reaver, and no longer. Explain."

"To put it simply, you decided to take a nap and wouldn't wake up when those bandits decided to find a way into the tunnels. So I moved some of the unused tables and such to block them. You, my dear wouldn't wake up, so I had no other choice. Unless you _wanted_ to be left for dead."

All of Sparrow's anger flew out the metaphorical window, leaving her face almost glowing red with embarrassment and her eyes almost apologetic.

_Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid Sparrow!_

"So… you… saved… _me?_" she asked slowly. "But you-! You're… you're… you're _you!_"

"My Sparrow, I seem to be on your mind quite a lot," Reaver said, grinning.

If her face could get any redder, it would have. Sparrow looked away from the pirate, wishing her heart would stop pounding.

"Damn you," she whispered, too low for Reaver to hear.

Sparrow sighed and finally began to notice where she had ended up. It was near where the tunnel had been blocked, so if the bandits found a way back to them, they'd have to fight with their backs to the wall. They got past one bookshelf. They could probably get past another.

"Hold on."

Sparrow's voice almost echoed in the empty, silent caves. She turned back to Reaver.

"You _blocked_ the way so the bandits couldn't get to us?"

Reaver nodded.

"You…? Reaver, let's face facts here. You have skill, not strength. There's no way…"

Sparrow's voice trailed off and she shook her head.

"My dear, don't underestimate me," Reaver said, laughing. Sparrow's response was a small glare and walking away from him, though she had no real place to go. "Why don't you make yourself useful and start one of those lovely fires of yours, Sparrow."

Without much choice, she agreed with him, watching in surprise as he helped her blast apart a mine cart to get the wood. Once they had a decent pile in the middle of the stone floor, she tried to light a fire in the palm of her hand. Only a few red sparks came, so she tried again. The results were the same, much to her disappointment.

_Reaver helping me and my will fading. The world's going to hell,_ she thought.

With the help of some left-over gun powder, Sparrow lit the fire at the cost of burning her hand once more. She now sat across from Reaver, examining her burns. They stung when she touched them, but they didn't break open and bleed, much to her relief. What did concern her, though, was the way Reaver continued to look at her. It made her feel like a rabbit in the presence of a starving wolf.

"Would you stop that?" Sparrow snapped after a few minutes.

"Am I doing something wrong, Sparrow dear?"

Again with that name. She was ready to let him have it all over again, but she kept her calm. Yelling wouldn't help anything.

"You just keep staring. It's creepy," she told him. "And must I tell you again that I am 'Sparrow', not 'Sparrow dear'?"

Reaver kept quiet, and his silence made a small grin creep onto her face. It wasn't often she could make him speechless, and he didn't stay that way for long.

"You should smile more often, Sparrow."

The world had to have gone to hell outside. That, or Sparrow had died and was in hell now, and this was some kind of sick, twisted vision.

Reaver said something that didn't make her embarrassed or angry, and he sounded almost… sincere. And without complementing himself. Sparrow's grin only grew, and she looked happy for once.

It all faded away too quickly, for Sparrow had reminded herself who she was with.

* * *

><p>Cold air descended on the cave like snow, and the fire had become nothing more than a pile of red coals. Sparrow, having only a thin shirt with torn sleeves, a well-worn pair of pants, and leather boots on, began to shiver.<p>

Reaver watched her, and felt the slightest twinge of pity for her. She wasn't herself since she woke up from that coma… that he knew he had put her into. As much as he wished it weren't true, in the back of his mind, a cold voice spoke the truth. He was the cause of her misfortune.

_Bloody hell. I'm getting soft because of this girl. Why does she even stay here? She hates me, and she has more than enough ways of buying whatever other house she likes!_

Reaver slowly rose to his feet, but Sparrow continued to watch the dying fire, unaware of him.

_I hate myself already for this, and I haven't even done it._

Sparrow could almost feel Reaver standing over her, but she didn't bother to look up. Only when she felt him sit down on the hard ground next to her and pull her toward him did she look up at him.

His expression hadn't changed, and he seemed to be avoiding her gaze. Sparrow wondered what he was trying to do, but didn't for long. She just accepted what had happened and allowed Reaver to keep her warm.

Sparrow looked back at the fire and shifted slightly on the cold ground, resting her head on the pirate's chest. Her blue eyes closed, and a smile formed on her lips.

"How do we get ourselves into these situations?" Sparrow asked quietly, opening her eyes again. Reaver looked down at her and started to say something, but his voice was cut off by the sound of shattering wood and footsteps.

The pair stood, acting quickly.

"Reaver, there's something I have to tell you now," Sparrow whispered, staring dead ahead. "I've thought about it, and I know what that shadow did to me."

Shadows formed on the walls of the caverns.

"Do tell, before we have to fight these bastards again."

"That's just it. I can't."

Reaver looked at Sparrow.

"Reaver, that damned shadow made me normal. I can't focus my will, I can't shoot, and I bet I can't even lift my cleaver anymore. I'm not a hero… I'm just some girl now!"

The bandits were in sight now, and closing in fast. There seemed to be more of them now. Reaver drew his cutlass and looked from the bandits to Sparrow. Her blue eyes, now almost a dull gray, glittered with questions that had no answers.

With his cutlass in one hand, he drew his Dragonstomper .48 and handed it to Sparrow, who took it, but with a bit of shock.

"Get up on a ledge. Shoot when you can," he instructed. Sparrow nodded, gripping the gun tightly. She lingered for a moment, searching for something to say in her mind as Reaver turned his attention to the oncoming bandits.

"Good luck," she whispered to Reaver. "And…"

"…Just don't die."

Sparrow made her decision quickly, but it was the one thing she didn't regret. When Reaver looked back at her, grinning, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him before fleeing to one of the high ledges.

The bandits attacked Reaver one by one, while the others either waited their turn or looked for a way up to fight Sparrow. The pirate fought surprisingly well with the cutlass, cutting down one of the bandits in a matter of seconds. He cursed when one of them pulled a gun on him, but the bullet only hit his sword and bounced off. Every few minutes, he looked back up at Sparrow to make sure she was alright. She nodded back to him when he did with a grave smile on her lips.

Sparrow watched Reaver closely, and even with her hate of guns, she was ready to shoot. Just because she never used one didn't mean she wasn't taught. The number of dead bandits slowly grew, and she thanked Avo that Reaver hadn't been hit yet. Though he looked like he was getting tired. Sparrow narrowed her eyes and continued to watch, but her hand adjusted so her finger was on the trigger of the gun.

With their numbers down to three, Sparrow could see that they were going to fight dirty. One of the bandits, whom Sparrow guessed to be the leader of them all, walked slowly behind Reaver, escaping his detection. She could see there was a pistol in his hand- and he had it pointed at Reaver's back.

Sparrow tried to focus on him, but she couldn't. He was almost below her, though. She could jump down and…

_Might as well go out with a bang,_ Sparrow decided. She readied the Dragonstomper .48 and leapt from the ledge.

The six gunshots sounded like a clap of thunder on the shore of Bloodstone. A deathly silence filled the cavern after a second shot was fired. The bandit captain fell to the ground, blood trickling from the shots he took to the head and chest.

Sparrow let the gun fall from her hand and hit the ground as the last bandit Reaver fought fell as well. One hand shook from the shock of firing a gun, while the other covered the center of Sparrow's chest. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing, while Reaver turned to see what had happened.

He saw the body of a dead bandit, Sparrow, and his gun. When Sparrow turned to look at him, he saw the blood flowing from under her hand pressed to her chest. She opened her eyes, and he saw fear in them. Pure fear, and nothing but. He realized why.

She had taken a bullet for him, saving his life and dooming herself in the process. Her breathing grew rapid and short, and she removed her hand so he could see the full extent of her wound.

The bullet had hit her square in the chest, leaving nothing but a small hole that meant death for any normal person. If Sparrow was right…

_…__I was shot in the heart and fell from Castle Fairfax. I lived. Lord Lucian shot me in the head. I lived through that, too._

She couldn't die now.

"Reaver?" Sparrow whispered.

"Yes…?"

"I think I'm gonna fall."

As she spoke, Sparrow's legs failed and she fell, only to be caught by the pirate. He felt her shaking from pure shock, and he didn't know what to do.

"This is the second time you've done this to me, Sparrow dear," he said, trying to keep calm.

"Last time… I promise you," Sparrow told him, grinning despite the hole in her chest.

"It'd better not be, you idiot."

"I'm no idiot… Just used to being a hero, that's all. Too used to living from gun wounds, too, I guess."

"That, my dear, I have to say is a bad habit."

"I know… It's not the first time you've saved my sorry ass, though. So. I guess it's a life for a life."

**(Say it with me now- c-l-i-f-f-h-a-n-g-e-r! Cliffhanger! ...I am so dead for doing this.)**


End file.
